


Across the Galaxy

by centaury_squill, swtalmnd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaury_squill/pseuds/centaury_squill, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Severus Harry Big Bang 2012.</p>
<p>When Harry sees an intriguing stranger on a video transmission from a far-distant planet, he knows he just has to meet him. Even if he has to cross the galaxy to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to swtalmnd for the illustrations and permission to link to her site.

**Chapter One**

Harry lay peacefully listening to the quiet birdsong in the background, his closed eyelids bathed in soft light. He seemed to hear a soothing, rhythmic, faraway sound, like waves breaking on a distant beach. He imagined floating on his back in the water, basking in the warmth of the sun, as he'd seen people doing in countless vids. Then a bird began chirping insistently in his ear. Frowning, Harry turned his back.

Gradually, the light grew more and more intense, the birdsong becoming louder, more strident. At last he could ignore it no longer. He sat up and waved his hand through the photobeam. The raucous birdsong abruptly halted, the light dimmed to a more bearable level. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bunk and dropped to the floor.

Another day on Space Station Sigma had begun.

*

Harry went through his morning routine on autopilot: folding his bunk away into the cabin wall, sonic shower, 7-day depilation, dressing in his station fatigues. Still only half awake, he emerged into the corridor and took the drop tube to the mess deck, where his friends Steve and Rick were waiting for him. He dropped into a seat beside Rick; Steve pushed a full mug across the table to him. Nodding gratefully, Harry picked it up and gulped the hot drink.

"Mmmm, caffeine..."

"That's our Harry," Steve grinned. "Want anything to eat?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll grab something later. I'm on shift in five."

"Take a look at today's scandal blog when you get a moment," Steve advised. "Something about you and your latest hot guy in there."

"I thought Harry _wrote_ the scandal blog," put in Rick.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, not me. I thought it was Steve."

Steve widened his eyes. "Who, me?" He glanced around the crowded mess hall, nodded at a group of girls, heads together, at a nearby table. "Most likely it's Rita over there. She's always giving out the latest gossip."

Harry finished his drink and got to his feet. "Gotta dash. See you guys for hoopball practice after work?"

Rick nodded. "I'll book us a session on null-g deck."

Harry hurried out of the mess hall, waving to more of his friends on the way.

*

Later, as he sat at his workstation surrounded by multiscreens carrying newsfeeds from all across the galaxy, Harry remembered Steve's comment and pulled up the station scandal blog on his personal unit. In spite of his denial, he did sometimes contribute to this clandestine news and opinions outlet, and suspected that Steve did, too. Frowned on by the authorities, it was widely read across the station, and contained everything from who was dating who to uncomplimentary observations on the latest official policy announcement.

Harry divided his attention between the myriad incoming newsfeeds, which he culled, condensed, and output to the stationwide vidscreens, and the latest titbits on the covert blog. 

_Our tireless scandal-sniffer has nosed out an unlikely liaison for your delectation. Guess which security chief has been strip searching everyone's favourite hydroponics expert in the privacy of his own cabin? Expect production of those popular salads to drop off dramatically, folks, while her attention is distracted from growing gorgeous gourds in favour of beefing up security..._

Harry snorted. If, as he suspected, the hydroponics expert in question was his friend Pomona, he couldn't see anything distracting her from her beloved plants. He glanced quickly around the multiscreens, then, satisfied there was nothing urgent demanding his attention, returned to the blog and scrolled down to the next item.

_Rumour has it a certain lively young newsjock has been seen recently in the company of a hot newcomer to the station. Don't keep him to yourself too long, feller – the rest of us would like a cut of that cutiepie too. Although bearing in mind said newsjock's average attention span, our number one hottie could be back swimming in the dating pool v-e-r-y soon. ;)_

Harry scowled. This was obviously a dig at himself and his latest boyfriend, Jason. 

"Hands off, guys, I saw him first," he muttered, bringing a picture of Jason up on his personal unit and admiring the sculpted face, the perfectly toned body. He and Jason had indulged in some particularly athletic sex last night, facilitated by temporarily lowering the gravity field in his cabin. He smiled reminiscently as his fingers continued to tap out commands on his control panel.

*

Partway through Harry's shift, he decided he needed a break. Putting the newsfeed selection on automatic, he slid out of his workstation and headed for the door. OK, the station's vidscreens would make boring viewing for the next half hour – no automated system could yet come close to an experienced newsjock's sense of what would titillate, amuse and inform his audience – but he'd be back before the complaints rose above acceptable levels.

He'd meant to go down to the mess deck and grab a snack there, but then the thought of his friend Pomona intruded. Maybe he'd visit her at work and see if he could disprove that blogger's theory about her being too distracted by Security Chief Shacklebolt to grow her usual delicious plants. 

Harry tracked Pomona down to Hydroponics Bay #3, where she was busy adjusting the nutrient levels of a batch of adzuki bean seedlings. He waited until she'd finished, and then greeted her with a hug.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, hugging him back. "I've not seen you for a while. How are things in News Central?"

"Quiet," Harry said, "So quiet, I'm skiving off for a quick break – and maybe a bite to eat?" He raised his eyebrows and gave a hopeful grin.

"Naughty boy," Pomona said, squeezing his arm affectionately. "Well, it just so happens I've been experimenting with a new salad blend – would you like to try some?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. Pomona's tasty blends of leaves, roots, pulses and herbs, all grown in her hydroponics bays, were legendary across the station. Soon he was sitting in Pomona's office, tucking into a delicious example of her art.

"Here's a new drink I'm trying out, too," she said, filling a couple of glasses. "The citrus fruits aren't doing too well at the moment, and everybody's tired of artificial flavours. I think this could make quite a good substitute." She raised her glass and clinked it against Harry's. "Cheers!"

Harry took a cautious sip. "Hmmm. Not bad. What is it?"

"Pumpkin juice," said Pomona proudly. "What do you think?"

"It's OK, maybe a bit bland. Perhaps you could add some cinnamon or something, spice it up a bit?" Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "And talking of _spicing things up_..."

Pomona sighed. "You've been reading that damn scandal blog, haven't you? Not a word of truth in it. Kingsley and I are friends, nothing more." She looked thoughtfully at Harry. "But you, when are you going to settle down a bit? Every time I see you, you're with a different guy."

She knew she'd said the wrong thing when Harry immediately gulped down the rest of his pumpkin juice and scrambled to his feet.

"Love to keep chatting, Pomona, but if I'm not back at my post soon all hell will break loose." He waved his hand at the small vidscreen set high up in the wall, currently showing a bland scene of grasslands from a recently terraformed planet.

Giving his friend a quick hug, he swung out of the room, leaving Pomona shaking her head sadly.

"Poor boy," she murmured to herself. "So afraid of commitment." She sighed. "I suppose it's natural enough at his age, but I can't help wondering if things might have been different if his parents had lived..."

*

Back at his workstation, Harry quickly usurped the automated system's anodyne selections, and soon all the vidscreens across the station were showing, in quick succession, highlights from the Sigma Sector hoopball championship; a report from a planetary survey in the Delta Sector; the hunt for a serial killer back on Old Mother Earth, and the discovery of a new wormhole which was expected to open up further reaches of the galaxy.

Harry swept his gaze over the rest of the newsfeeds. As usual, he concentrated most of his attention on those closest to him, which originated either from their own sector, or from the most interesting, technologically advanced planets and stations elsewhere in the galaxy. Occasionally he spared a glance for the furthest screens, which mainly carried feeds beamed via wormholes from far distant colony planets; Harry had all the typical spacer's contempt for such dirtballs, as he termed them.

As he'd expected, none were showing anything of much interest; in fact several were blank, indicating their transmissions had either halted for the time being (not all planets made 24-hour newsfeeds a priority) or, as sometimes happened, their beams had been swallowed up without trace in the wormhole conduit. Of those currently live, one displayed the scene of rolling grasslands which the automated system had inflicted on the station's vidscreens. The rest were only marginally more interesting. 

Duty done, Harry turned his attention back to the nearer screens, and the progress of a sector-wide talent contest. He was amused to see that the singing dog from Sagittarius Alpha One was marginally ahead of the null-g dance troupe from Space Station Tau in the popularity ratings.

He wasn't sure what made him glance back at the outer bank of screens, but as soon as he did he was riveted. The feed from a planet on the far side of the galaxy, which had been showing the landing site of colony ships surrounded by a huddle of temporary domes, had suddenly changed. It was now showing the interior of one of the domes, which had been set up as a laboratory. But it wasn't the glittering array of bottles, test tubes and electron microscopes which caught and held Harry's attention: it was the sight of the man at one of the benches. 

Tall, dark-haired and imposing, he was by no means conventionally handsome: his nose jutted like the beak of a hawk, his skin had a rather sallow tint, his cheeks were hollow, his lips thin. But his expression spoke of such power, such experience, that Harry could only stare, mesmerised. The man was heating something in a large beaker, his face intent, his long, thin fingers delicately wielding a glass stirring rod.

Suddenly he looked up from his task, straight into the observing camera. Dark, fathomless eyes seemed to bore straight into Harry's for a moment, before he made an irritable gesture for the filming to stop. Harry's fingers danced swiftly over his control panel to capture the man's face before the screen went dark. He had no intention of putting it out on the stationwide broadcast, however. This one was for himself alone.

As his shift drew towards its close, he took a moment to transfer a copy of the stranger's image onto his personal unit. He stared once more into those dark eyes, which seemed to reveal so little, yet demand so much.

Beside it, Jason's handsome face looked suddenly bland, insipid, uninteresting.

[ ](http://www.pornbunnyfarm.com/files/sshpbb1-cm.jpg)

* * * * * *

**Chapter Two**

Whatever Harry was doing – working in News Central, playing hoopball with his friends, having sex with Jason – the memory of those intense dark eyes kept intruding. He set up an alert on the relevant newsfeed, to send him any more images matching that intriguing face. But nothing pinged; the mystery man did not reappear.

Frustrated, Harry went to see the only man on the station who knew anything about the colony planets, Kingsley Shacklebolt, but found the security chief on the point of leaving his office.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said, "I'll come back later, shall I?"

Kingsley slapped his palm against his office door seal, securing it from intruders. "I'm just off to the rec deck for a workout," he said, giving Harry a warm smile. "Join me if you want. A real opponent's always better than a hologram."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, not wanting to pass up the opportunity of seeing him stripped to workout gear, even if Kingsley was resolutely straight.

Reaching the rec deck, Kingsley led the way to his private locker, keyed to his palmprint. "You can borrow my spare kit – if you don't have any of your own down here?" And he raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"Nope. Just hoopball stuff," Harry said. "I don't use the battle suite much."

Once kitted out in tight meshed costumes woven throughout with sensors, they entered the battle simulation suite. As no program was currently running, it was in its default state: an empty cuboid, all six enclosing walls marked out in a grid pattern. Kingsley locked the door behind them and stood by the control panel set into the nearest wall.

"Co-operative or opposing?" he asked.

Harry eyed him appreciatively, but with a touch of apprehension. Kingsley stood taller than him, his magnificent physique displayed to full advantage in the figure-hugging meshes. 

"Co-operative," he decided, then, seeing Kingsley's disappointment, "To start with, anyway. Maybe we could have a quick one-on-one afterwards."

"Any preference for scenario?" 

Harry shrugged. "You choose," he said.

Kingsley gave his slow grin. "Let's try this then," he said, his fingers caressing the controls. "I think you'll like it."

Scenario entered and locked in, Kingsley spoke the word of command to begin the simulation. The austere room disappeared and suddenly they were standing on cobblestones. Tall, crooked buildings leant inwards from either side, their upper storeys almost touching over the twisting street.

Harry looked down at himself. The tight gear Kingsley had lent him had disappeared under the illusion of black robes. He glanced sideways at Kingsley and was disappointed to see that his toned body was concealed similarly, although his robes were dark blue.

"What is this – medieval Earth?"

"Sort of," Kingsley replied. "Watch out. Here come our opponents."

Round a bend in the cobbled street came a group of four or five evil-looking men. When they caught sight of Harry and Kingsley, one of them gave a raucous shout.

"What we got here, lads?"

They quickly surrounded the pair, grinning unpleasantly, pointing and jeering.

"What you doing here, eh?"

"Don't belong here, do yer?"

"Lost yer way, have yer?"

One of them shoved at Harry, who quickly stepped aside. Kingsley took him by the arm and whispered, "Watch what I do, you'll soon pick it up."

Before Harry could reply, Kingsley had pirouetted gracefully to meet their opponents, pulling what looked like a long, slender rod from inside his robes. They immediately produced similar implements, the grins disappearing from their faces.

The man who had shoved Harry pointed his stick straight at Kingsley and shouted some incomprehensible nonsense. A ball of energy burst from its tip and shot towards the security chief, who deflected it easily.

Cursing Kingsley for not giving him a proper briefing beforehand, Harry fumbled in his robes and found that he, too, possessed such a powerful stick. Fortunately he was a quick learner, and by watching Kingsley fighting his opponent he soon discovered how to make it shoot out an energy bolt in attack, or produce a shielding effect in defence.

The battle was now joined in earnest. Their holographic opponents, finding that Kingsley outclassed them with the energy sticks, opted to use brute force. They rushed headlong at the human pair, yelling bloodcurdling threats. Kingsley was able to down two of them before a third grabbed his energy weapon as it was recharging and tore it from his hands. Kingsley promptly shoulder-butted him and a minute later they were rolling on the cobbles, kicking and punching.

Harry, meanwhile, was duelling the remaining two with his stick; he found that by sweeping it through the air in a tight arc while firing he could better control the direction and intensity of the energy beam it produced. Exhilarated, he swung and pirouetted and danced out of harm's way, as brightly-coloured beams lanced and interlaced all around. 

Moments later, one of his opponents lay still on the cobbled street. The other had lost his energy weapon, but so had Harry. Following Kingsley's example, he grappled with the evil-looking figure and bore him to the ground. As always, fighting with a hologram seemed odd: even though feedback sensors in Harry's combat costume gave him the illusion of real contact with his opponent, they always lagged a bit, making everything feel slightly off. He could understand why Kingsley preferred a workout with a human being.

Hologram or not, the bad guy was giving a good account of himself, and the pain he was generating felt all too real. Harry was secretly relieved when Kingsley, having disposed of his own opponent, came to his aid. He grumbled for form's sake, however, as Kingsley put the hologram out of action and helped Harry to his feet.

"I nearly had him, there."

Kingsley snorted disbelievingly, and spoke the password to end the program. Street, buildings and opponents all vanished, along with Harry and Kingsley's robes, leaving them in their form-fitting meshed costumes.

"That was fun," Harry gasped, trying to get his breath back. "I didn't recognise the scenario, though."

"I got the idea from some old vids dating back to 21st century Earth," Kingsley told him, unlocking the cuboid's door with his palm. 

He went outside for a moment, coming back dragging a dojo mat. He didn't seem in the least out of breath, in spite of his recent exertions. Harry, still feeling the effects of his own efforts, envied him his fitness.

"Time for that one-on-one you promised me," said Kingsley, positioning the mat to his satisfaction.

The outcome was never in doubt, although Harry was able to give a better account of himself than he'd feared. But eventually he lay gasping on his back, slapping the mat in submission. Kingsley took pity on him, hauled him to his feet, and helped him out into the corridor to the sonic showers. As they stripped off, Harry admired Kingsley's body – trickles of perspiration over his gleaming black skin, well-defined muscles, easy grace. Kingsley, well aware of Harry's scrutiny, was only amused.

Showered and dressed, they went into one of the rec deck's lounges to relax over a drink. As Kingsley headed for the automatic dispenser, Harry sank gratefully into a chair. While he was waiting for Kingsley to come back with his fruit zip, he pulled his personal unit out of his pocket to catch up on the latest scandal blog entry. Seeing nothing of interest, he called up the picture of his "Mystery Man from Planet X" as he privately called the dark-eyed stranger.

Harry was so engrossed that at first he didn't notice Kingsley arriving at their table with the drinks. As soon as he did, he hastily swept his thumb over the screen to blank it. Kingsley, intrigued, took it from him before he could complete the motion.

Harry was surprised to see the expression of mild interest on Kingsley's face change to one of recognition.

"Where did you get this?" Kingsley asked.

Harry shrugged. "At work, one of the newsfeeds."

Kingsley scrutinised the picture more closely. "Historic?"

Harry was puzzled. "No, current. Actually, it was from a colony planet. That's why I was coming to see you. I know you're an expert on them."

"Hardly an expert," Kingsley murmured, frowning at the tiny screen in his hand.

"Do you know who it is?" asked Harry. He held his breath, waiting for Kingsley's reply.

"Ye-e-e-s," Kingsley said slowly. "His name's Severus Snape." He stared at Harry, who looked blank. "You've not heard of him?"

Harry shook his head.

Kingsley took a deep breath. "He knew your parents, Harry. In fact, some people believe he may know more than the rest of us about the circumstances of their deaths. He –"

Seeing the stricken look on Harry's face, Kingsley stopped short.

"Anyway," he went on brightly, after a moment, "what do you want to know about colony planets? I've a file or two on their history I could zap over to your comm unit, if you're interested." 

Harry picked up his fruit zip and took a long drink.

"Yeah, thanks," he said. "I might be interested in taking a job on one; I've worked everywhere else."

"A planet? You?" Kingsley sounded incredulous. "I didn't think you'd worked anywhere but space stations. You've been on this one, what, nearly two years? And before that –" he lifted his wrist and consulted the compact comm unit strapped to it, "– you've worked on three – no, four other stations. Hmm. Move about a bit, don't you?"

Harry grinned at him and shrugged. "What can I say? So I'm restless and shallow."

"In denial, you mean," Kingsley said, under his breath.

"What?" Harry asked sharply.

"Nothing, nothing." Kingsley handed back Harry's unit and picked up his drink. 

They both sipped in silence for a moment.

"Which of the colony planets did your picture come from, anyway?" Kingsley asked casually.

Harry consulted the image data and reeled off the planet's ID number. Kingsley fed it into his wrist unit and nodded as if a suspicion had been confirmed.

"Ah," he said, "that's right on the edge of the galaxy."

"So?"

"It explains why Snape looks younger than I'd expect. That planet is so far away it would take –" Kingsley tapped numbers into his wrist unit, "– oh, about ten years to reach from his last known location, and of course he'd be in coldsleep all that time. So he's effectively now ten years younger than his real age."

"Which would be what?" asked Harry.

"His real age? Oh, early forties."

"Same as my parents would have been," Harry said quietly. 

Kingsley tapped more numbers into his wrist unit. 

"In fact, it would take five years to reach that planet from here."

Harry laughed uneasily. "Well, that wrecks my plan to try life as a colonist. I can't afford to spend five years in coldsleep."

Kingsley leaned back in his chair and gave Harry a hard stare. "But you wouldn't have to, would you Harry?"

Seeing the shocked expression on Harry's face, Kingsley smiled knowingly. "As security chief, I have access to everybody's files – _including_ any sealed records."

He leaned forward across the table, forcing Harry to meet his eyes, and dropped his voice confidentially. 

"You see, I happen to know you're a Jumper."

Harry went white and slumped down in his chair. Concerned, Kingsley reached out and grasped his hand.

"Harry? Are you OK?"

Harry didn't answer; he was reliving one of the worst moments of his life. 

Not that first wormhole jump, which he'd been too young to remember, although he'd been told later that he'd been lucky to survive it with his mind intact. Apparently that jump had been an emergency – a desperate attempt to get the baby Harry out of danger. Later, when he was older, Harry had been briefly tempted by the lifestyle of a Jumpship pilot. Because Jumpers – people who could survive the hellish anomaly of a wormhole with their sanity intact – were so rare, a Jumpjock could command a fantastic salary. 

The next jump Harry had taken was enough to make him cross it off his list of career options. Oh, it hadn't driven him crazy. But now, even though his body was safe and warm in the rec deck lounge, he experienced again the chill, the feeling of utter hopelessness, that the passage through the wormhole had brought.

And, once again, he seemed to hear a woman's screams...

* * * * * *

**Chapter Three**

Remus loped through the woods, glorying in the freedom of an unspoiled planet. So what if Icarus' moon had triggered a dormant gene which made his life difficult at times. As he breathed deeply of the fresh air, bringing him new, exciting scents, it all seemed worth it.

*

Severus Snape looked up from his computer as the door of his makeshift laboratory opened.

"Hello, Severus."

He nodded curtly, eyes still fixed on the screen. "Remus."

Remus came in, shutting the door behind him.

"Not interrupting anything, I hope?" he asked, running his fingers through his rain-slicked hair.

"Just routine," Severus answered. "I'm running through the brain scans of the latest batch of colonists being brought out of coldsleep, making sure there are no medical problems."

"And are there?"

"No..." Severus sounded uncertain. "But I have found an anomaly in one of the scans..."

He looked up from the computer and frowned.

"Don't shake yourself all over my experiments," he snapped. "What have you been doing? Running in the rain again?"

Remus grinned. "You should come with me, Severus. All this glorious planet to explore, it's a shame to stay cooped up in your lab all the time."

Severus snorted. "You still think it's so glorious, do you?" 

Even though they were alone in the lab, he lowered his voice before adding, "After what it's done to you?"

Remus looked annoyed. "I blame the military geneticists on Old Earth for tinkering with my ancestors. It's not this planet's fault, or its moon's."

He moved closer to the bench where Severus was sitting. 

"Have you been able to make some?"

Severus nodded, got up from his stool. "It's over here."

He crossed the laboratory to where a purple liquid hissed and bubbled in a retort. Opening a drawer, he took out a packet and shook a couple of dried herbal sprigs into his palm.

"Nearly ready," he said, decanting a measure of the liquid into a beaker and adding the herb. He picked up a glass rod and gave the mixture a good stir before holding the beaker out to Remus.

Remus took it and sipped cautiously. "Ugh! I suppose adding some sort of sweetener is out of the question?"

Snape looked bland. "Naturally. That would render it useless."

Remus choked down a mouthful. "Not sure I believe you," he said, "I'm going to try adding wild honey to it one of these days. I found a bees' nest out in the woods."

"Better bring me some for analysis," Severus said. "Just because this planet resembles Old Earth in many ways doesn't mean things you _think_ are edible, necessarily _are_."

"OK," Remus said, gulping another mouthful and putting the empty beaker down on the bench. "Thanks, Severus."

He turned to go, then hesitated. "Um, you haven't told anyone –?"

"Don't worry," Severus said, washing the beaker and returning it to its rack. "I wouldn't dream of revealing to the Council that their chief security guard is a werewolf."

Remus scowled. "I wish you wouldn't call it that. It's not funny." He drummed his fingers on the bench, looking at Severus speculatively. "Talking of the Council –" he said, and stopped.

"Yes?" Severus asked. He didn't sound very interested. He walked back to his computer and sat down.

"– I heard an interesting snippet from Min the other day."

"Oh? And what did _Professor_ McGonagall have to say?" asked Severus, with sarcastic emphasis on the title.

"The Council have been considering an application for that mineralogy job."

"I didn't think anyone on the colony had the necessary skills."

"He's not on planet at the moment. He's applying to join us. I thought you might be interested, that's all. His name's Harry Potter."

Remus thought he saw a sudden flash of emotion on Severus' face, but it was quickly suppressed.

"Lily and James Potter's son? Are you sure?"

"Certain. He's on Station Sigma at the moment; says he wants to try planetary life for a change."

Severus stared down at his computer screen. "Well, it shouldn't matter to us. I'm surprised the Council are even considering someone who would take years to get here."

Remus shook his head. "He wouldn't, that's the interesting part. Apparently he's a Jumper."

Severus muttered something under his breath which Remus didn't quite catch: the only word he could make out was _survived_.

"Please don't tell anyone, though," Remus warned. "The Council don't want it generally known there's a Jumper on planet. I think they're going to pass him off as a colonist from one of the latest ships. They haven't finished reviving 'em all yet, have they?"

"No," Severus said. "In fact one of the ships hasn't even touched down yet." He scrolled abstractedly through the lines of data on his screen for a moment, then glanced up. "The Council are going to accept him, then?"

"Sounds like it," Remus said. "He should be here in a week or so."

Severus' fingers stabbed angrily at the computer keyboard. "I think they're making a mistake," he muttered.

Remus shrugged. "I'm quite looking forward to meeting him," he said. "I wonder if he's anything like James?"

He grinned as Severus growled something inaudible. 

"Anyway, I'd better leave you to your work. Thanks again for the jollop."

"No problem," Severus replied. "There's more if you need it."

"I should probably take some more tomorrow." Remus backed out of the room, looking at Severus as if he'd like to say more, but in the end just shook his head and shut the door quietly behind him.

Severus returned to his inspection of the brain scan for colonist Quirinus Quirrell.

*

Harry looked beseechingly at the computer screen.

"Hermione. Tell me everything you know about mineralogy."

"Why in space have you applied for a mineralogy job anyway?"

"It was the only one they had going. Come on, Hermione. You know you know everything."

The link between Space Station Sigma and Archive Alpha, where his old schoolfriend Hermione worked, wasn't the most stable, but Harry could swear that behind the odd burst of static he saw Hermione rolling her eyes.

"Honestly, Harry..." 

" _Please_ Hermione. I need to get to this planet."

"Why?"

Harry hesitated. The comm link hummed and buzzed beside him. At last he said, "I may be able to find out more – about my parents." He didn't mention Severus Snape.

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione turned away from the screen for a moment. When she came into view again, she had a very serious look on her face. "Which planet was it, again?"

Harry told her. There was a pause, which told him Hermione was busy accessing information. Then she was back.

"I can beam some files over which may help. Stand by."

The incoming data light on Harry's unit lit up; glancing at his secondary screen, he saw a dense stream of idents scrolling past. He groaned.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice was plaintive. "Can't you, you know, just give me a précis?"

Hermione tutted. "I'll try and create a dummy's guide for you and beam it over before you go. When's that likely to be?"

"I leave Sigma in 48 hours," Harry said. "But it'll take me as long again to reach the Jump Point. I can mug up on your stuff during the flight."

Subspace interference sent ripples down Hermione face. When it cleared, Harry could see she was looking thoughtful.

"Isn't that planet the one they call Icarus?" 

Harry thought about the files Kingsley had given him. "I've seen it called that, yeah. When it was first discovered, they thought its orbit might take it too close to its star, but that turned out to be an observational error." He grinned. "Hope so, anyway."

"Icarus and mineralogy," mused Hermione. " _Icarus_... I'm sure I've heard of something... hold on."

Once more the only sound in the quiet cabin was the buzz and whine of the comm link's carrier signal. Then Hermione was back again.

"Yes, I knew there was something. When colonisation of Icarus was first mooted, back – oh, twenty or thirty years ago – there was some dispute about funding. The main people behind the colony wanted Icarus settled as a low tech, mainly agrarian world. But because telespectroscopy had shown up some data for an unknown mineral with interesting properties, a big mining corporation wanted in as well. There was a big fight about it, and the corporation lost out. The colonists didn't want their world torn apart by greedy prospectors. Maybe that's why they didn't take any mineralogists along."

"So why do they suddenly want one now?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head, looking as puzzled as Harry felt. 

A beep from his unit told him the transfer of files from Hermione was complete. Harry skimmed the titles of the most recent: _Astronomical Spectroscopy, Astromineralogy, Astrospectroscopy & Mineral Mapping..._ and groaned again. His trip to Jump Point 912 wasn't going to be the dosser he'd hoped.

*

In the event, Harry spent the first part of the flight to his Jump Point in trying to sleep off the hangover from his leaving party. He fed Hermione's files into his subconscious-learning module and let them murmur mutedly in his ear as he dozed.

Ten hours out, he'd recovered sufficiently to open the file which Hermione, true to her word, had created and beamed over shortly before he'd left Space Station Sigma. He smiled wryly as he read the title she'd given it: _Mineralogy for Morons_. Reading through it filled in the rest of his flight time, and kept him from thinking too much about the ordeal which lay ahead.

All too soon, the warning buoys which ringed the entrance to the wormhole came into view. Harry got his belongings together and prepared for the transfer. Shortly afterwards, he was installed in the tiny, rarely-used passenger cabin of the Jumpship headed for Daedalus Prime, the closest point to his destination, Icarus.

He waited apprehensively as the pilot finished loading his cargo of message cans and light freight. Then the cabin's intercom crackled to life.

"Hold on to your brain, kid, we're on our way!"

As the surreal colours began to bleed and drip down the melting walls, Harry again heard the haunting sound of a woman's screams echoing all around him.

But this time, he also heard her words.

_"Not Harry, please, not Harry! Noooooooooooooo........"_

* * * * * *

**Chapter Four**

The shuttlecraft settled into its orbit around the planet and the pilot began to broadcast his call sign to Icarus ground station. The short freight run to and from the Daedalus Prime Jump Point had become routine to him now. This time his manifest included a cargo of medical supplies, a few private message cubes, two cases of scientific instruments, and one Harry Potter. He gave a slightly puzzled glance at Harry, dozing uneasily beside him in the rarely-used copilot's seat.

His headphones gave a preliminary buzz, and the ground station came online.

"Icarus to Delta Abel 4, do you read me, over?"

The pilot thumbed the talk button. "Delta Abel 4 here, am I clear to land? Over."

There was a long pause. The shuttle pilot frowned; normally he'd be automatically put straight on to the landing procedure. At last his headphones came to life once more.

"Icarus to Delta Abel 4, we are sending you new landing coordinates. Stand by."

That was unusual. In all the runs he'd made since the colony planet was established, he couldn't remember ever being told to set down anywhere other than the main landing pad. He tapped in the security code to allow his navigational unit to accept the new coordinates, and blinked in surprise at what the display was telling him.

He thumbed the pressel again. "Icarus, are those coords correct? They have me landing darkside."

A muffled squawk in his headphones, then the voice came on again. "Icarus to Delta Abel 4, coordinates are correct, do you have a problem with night landing? Over."

His professional pride stung, the pilot grunted a short reply and acknowledged the new landing coordinates. Minutes later, they began their controlled descent to the surface. The change in g force awoke his passenger; Harry's eyes opened and he stared wildly around, still shaken and disorientated from his earlier passage through the wormhole. 

"Soon be down, mate," the pilot told him. "You okay?"

"Fine," Harry said hesitantly, as though he wasn't quite sure.

The drop ended with a soft thump as the shuttlecraft set down. The pilot unfastened his harness and started the automatic safety checks which culminated in the outer door hissing open and admitting cool, sweet-smelling night air. He swung himself out and disappeared into the darkness.

Harry heard a murmur of voices outside. He couldn't make out the words, but it sounded as though the pilot was arguing with somebody. Harry tried to get out of his own harness, but his hands wouldn't obey him. He felt weak and drained. Although he knew the wormhole jump had taken a matter of minutes in galactic time, subjectively it had lasted far, far longer, and its effects were still with him. He closed his eyes, fighting back waves of nausea, and was thrown back into the unending nightmare of the wormhole. Through it he was dimly aware of someone touching him gently and talking in a soothing murmur. Then, nothing.

*

When Harry opened his eyes again he was in a small room, lying on a bunk alongside one wall. A man sat at a table opposite, sorting through a pile of boxes and making entries into a small electronic pad. He looked tired and faintly harassed, frowning at the tiny screen. Hearing the bunk creak as Harry struggled to sit up, he looked over at him, his frown replaced by a welcoming smile.

"Harry. It's good to meet you. I'm Remus Lupin."

Remus selected a parcel from the boxes piled on the table beside him, opened it, and pulled out a small, brightly-wrapped package.

"Here, have some of this. Best thing I know for the Jump Jitters. Luckily I was able to indent for some along with the rest of our meds order."

He tore open the wrapping, revealing a dark brown bar, and broke off a big piece.

"Eat this," he said, getting up and handing it to Harry.

Harry took it and put it in his mouth; a warm, comforting sensation immediately spread through him, reaching right to his toes, dispelling the last of the wormhole's icy terror.

"It's an Old Earth product called chocolate," Remus told Harry, rewrapping the remainder and setting it down on the table. 

"I'm tempted to try if it takes away the taste next time Severus brews me one of his vile potions," he muttered to himself, and was surprised to see Harry's face change.

"Do you mean Severus Snape?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Remus said, "Why, do you know him? Surely you were only a baby when –" He broke off.

Harry blushed, sucking hard on the chocolate. What could he say? _I saw his face on a vid and was so smitten I crossed the galaxy to meet him_? Looking into Remus' friendly eyes, Harry settled for a different truth. 

"I heard he could tell me something about my parents' deaths."

Harry saw Remus' eyes turn wary.

"Er, Harry. I wouldn't, um, mention that to Severus. Not right away, at least. He can be a bit – difficult." Remus ran his fingers through his hair. "In fact, I'd better finish cataloguing these stores, he'll be here soon to pick up his order."

_Here soon? I'll meet him?_ Harry thought excitedly. Then something Remus had said earlier finally got through to his Jump-addled brain.

"Did you know my parents, too?" he asked.

"Yes," Remus said, distractedly shifting boxes around on the table, "we were all at Chrysaor Academy together."

"When I was in the wormhole..." Harry said slowly, "...I heard my mum. Screaming."

Remus' hands tightened around the box he was holding. His face went pale. But before he could say anything, the door opened and in walked Severus Snape.

"Remus, has the shuttle left already? I wanted to send –" He broke off, staring at Harry.

Harry stared back into the dark eyes he'd come to know so well. He seemed to be drowning in their fathomless depths; Severus' voice sent warm tingles through him, like Remus' chocolate had done.

"So this is our Jumper." The fascinating voice sounded slightly mocking.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Remus said, waving his hand from one to the other of them in introduction. "Harry, meet Severus Snape. Severus, Harry."

"Uh, h-hi," Harry said, going red and cursing himself for his lack of self possession.

Severus merely raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement, then turned to Remus.

"About the shuttle –"

"Gone, I'm afraid," Remus said. "I've got your stuff here, though." He pushed a couple of boxes across the table.

Severus sniffed. "All well and good, but I wanted to send... something... out."

"Sorry. It'll have to wait for the next run," Remus told him. He stacked the boxes on top of each other and made a note on his pad. "Severus, have you heard any more about that last coldsleep ship? I thought it was supposed to land yesterday, but it hadn't arrived by the time I left the settlement."

Severus leaned his hip against the table. Harry couldn't stop gawking at him. The power which he'd detected when first seeing Severus on vid was as nothing to his actual presence. Severus seemed to sense Harry's stare. The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he scowled at him.

"Don't they teach manners on Space Station Sigma?" he hissed viciously. He scooped his boxes up from the table and spun on his heel. At the door, he turned back.

"That ship's delayed. Ion storm out past Gamma Centauri." His lip lifted in a sneer. "You'll just have to hide here longer than you expected."

The door slammed behind him, leaving Harry and Remus staring at each other in consternation.

*

Severus strode furiously away towards his landskimmer, then half checked, remembering he'd intended to consult Remus about his suspicions of colonist Quirrell. But the sight of that – _Potterspawn_ – had hit him like a physical blow. He'd thought he was prepared for the offspring of James Potter, even for that insolent stare the whelp had obviously inherited. But for it to come from _Lily's_ eyes was almost too much to bear.

He gave a violent shake of his head and continued on to his landskimmer, thrusting his free hand deep into his pocket, where it found his private message cube, reminding him he'd been unable to send it. Damn, he'd have to wait till the next shuttle run to contact the cryogenic centre which prepared the colonists for coldsleep. His enquiry was far too sensitive to trust to a message beam, even an encrypted one. 

Severus' hand tightened around the cube, its edges biting painfully into his palm. He'd just have to keep a close eye on Quirinus Quirrell until he could find a way to confirm his suspicions. 

And he would _not_ waste any more time thinking about Harry Potter.

*

"What did he mean about hiding here?" Harry asked, breaking through Remus' embarrassed attempts to make excuses for his friend.

Remus looked, if possible, even more embarrassed. "Well – look, Harry, don't take this the wrong way. But it was thought best not to let it be generally known that you're a Jumper. The colony leaders decided we could pretend you're a colonist off the last ship. Unfortunately –" he drummed his fingers on the table, shrugged, "– well, you heard Severus. The ship's been delayed."

Harry looked down. First Severus Snape's hostile reaction, now this.

"Don't they like Jumpers here, then?" he asked in a small voice. "Is that why S-Snape –"

Remus shook his head emphatically. "No, not at all. But I'm afraid I can't tell you any more at the moment; it's a question of security. I'm sure Professor McGonagall – she's one of the colony's leaders – will explain it all when you meet her. In the meantime, though, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here, well away from the settlement."

Harry thought for a moment. "So I won't be able to take up the mineralogy post just yet, then?" he asked, trying to sound disappointed.

Apparently he succeeded all too well, for Remus hastened to reassure him.

"Not officially, but there's a cave near here with some unusual mineral deposits we're very interested in. That's why I selected this spot for you to wait until the colony ship's in." Remus waved his hand towards the door. "I'll take you there first thing in the morning." 

He grinned enthusiastically. "Don't worry, Harry, there'll be plenty for you to do!" 

"Oh, good," Harry said glumly. He was beginning to wonder whether coming here had been a huge mistake.

Severus Snape, the man he'd so longed to meet, had looked at him with utter loathing; he was supposed to pretend he hadn't come through the wormhole; and tomorrow he'd have to sound knowledgeable about some mineral deposits, armed only with Hermione's _Mineralogy for Morons_.

Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

* * * * * *

**Chapter Five**

"Is this the mineral that GalactiCorp were so interested in, back when your colony was founded?" Harry asked Remus, remembering what Hermione had told him.

They were standing outside a cave opening into the sheer rock face which towered above them. Harry glanced back at the way they'd come: an uneven grassy slope dotted here and there with boulders, which led down to the cabin where they'd spent the previous night, with a vast forest stretching out beyond it, and, in the distance, a range of snow-capped mountains. The sheer scale of it all took his breath away.

"You've done your research." Remus sounded approving. "Yes, I believe it is."

Harry smiled wryly to himself, wondering how long it would be before he was exposed as a fraud.

"So what are its unusual properties you were talking about last night?" he asked.

Remus pulled absently at his earlobe. "Well... it might sound odd, but it seems to have psychotropic qualities. That's why we're restricting access to it for the moment." 

He waved his hand at the forcefield generator which stood, squat and menacing, at the entrance to the cave. A deep hum emanated from it, almost too low for the human ear to register.

Harry took a step forward and saw a shimmering haze spread out, centred on the generator, quickly growing to fill the entire entrance to the cave.

"Wait," Remus warned, catching hold of Harry's arm. "I need to deactivate it first." He squatted down in front of the unit, flipped open a panel and tapped in a series of security codes. The shimmering haze shrank to nothing, the low hum disappeared. 

"OK now, Harry," he called. He got to his feet and looked round. "Harry?"

Harry had strolled away and was leaning against a boulder, staring out over the countryside. A gentle breeze was blowing, playing against his face, bringing sweet scents to his nostrils. Fleecy white clouds sailed above, sending shadows racing across the grass. The sunshine made the grass look so shining, so alive, and below them were the fresh green leaves of the forest. Harry gave a happy sigh, turned to Remus.

"Sorry. I've never been on a planet before – not that I can remember, anyway. It's so different to what I imagined."

Remus' face changed. "Oh, Harry," he said. "And here I've been dragging you straight off to work." He turned back to the forcefield generator. "The minerals can wait for a day or two," he said, reactivating it.

The humming of the generator started up again, masking Harry's soft sigh of relief.

"First, I'm going to show you around the countryside," Remus continued, "starting with the woods near the cabin. They're great at this time of year."

At Harry's puzzled look, he added, "Icarus is tilted much like Earth, so we get seasons here. This is Spring. Plants are coming into flower, birds are nesting – I don't suppose they have birds on the space stations?"

Harry shrugged. "Not on any I've worked on. Plants, yes. Some. In the hydroponics bays." He thought of Pomona and her exotic salads, and suppressed a quick twinge of homesickness. "Not birds, though. I have seen them on vids, and I had a birdsong alarm in my cabin on Sigma."

"Oh, vids can't possibly compete with the real thing," Remus said enthusiastically. "I love just running through the woods, listening to the birds calling, in all sorts of weather. Severus thinks I'm mad."

Seeing Harry's face close, he added hastily, "Don't worry about the way he treated you last night. He'll come round. I think it was a bit of a shock to him, seeing you. You look very like your father, you know."

"No, I didn't know," Harry said.

"Oh. Well, he and Severus – let's just say they didn't get on. And with you looking like him... I'm sure that's all it was. He'll be different once he gets to know you."

"Will he," muttered Harry. "I wonder."

*

Back in the colonists' settlement, Severus Snape finished setting up the equipment which he hoped would make brewing Remus' potion faster and easier. He glanced at the calendar he'd taped to the wall, showing the phases of Icarus' moon, and frowned. If that benighted, belated colony ship didn't arrive soon, Remus would still be stuck out in the wilds when the next full moon rose. He couldn't count on the werewolf remembering to come over and collect his dose; it would be up to Severus to take it out there. He could only hope that the Potterspawn would have the sense to keep out of his way.

As he gently lowered the final delicate component into place, the door of his laboratory opened. Severus was about to bark out an irritated complaint when he saw that the intruder was Professor McGonagall.

"Hello, Severus," she said. She walked over, her eye caught by the glittering array of metal, glass and plastic tubing on the bench in front of him. "What's this?"

"Hello, Minerva," he responded stiffly. "It's just some new equipment I ordered; it came in on the last shuttle."

"Yes, but what is it _for_?" she asked, running a curious finger over the top of a glass dome.

"Well," said Severus, thinking rapidly, "I needed something to brew up medicines in a hurry, in case we have an emergency in the colony and can't wait for the shuttle to bring in medical supplies."

To his relief, Minerva seemed to accept this. She gave a brisk nod of approval. 

"That's very far-sighted of you, Severus. In fact, it's a medical problem of sorts I wanted to speak to you about."

"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. You remember you had some concerns about the brain scan for Quirinus Quirrell."

"I did, yes," Severus said. "There seemed to be a certain... anomaly... with it."

"What kind of anomaly?" Minerva asked.

Severus hesitated, wondering how much to tell her. Finally he said, "It seemed almost like two different brain patterns, one superimposed on, and slightly offset from, the other."

"Ah," said Minerva, looking thoughtful. "Well, I do wish you'd have a look at him. He suffered a blackout yesterday. You were – away – at the time, or I would have consulted you immediately."

Severus scowled. "Yes, I was away. Picking up my equipment. I had to travel miles for it. Miles! Why couldn't the shuttle have landed in its normal spot?"

Minerva McGonagall tutted impatiently. "You know very well why, Severus." Her face softened as she took in his expression. "Did you meet him?"

"Yes, I met him," Severus said, in such a forbidding tone that Minerva said no more.

*

Harry and Remus reached the top of a slight rise, and paused to catch their breath and look down at the stream gurgling and splashing over rocks beneath them.

"What do you think of our planet so far?" asked Remus.

"It's amazing," said Harry. "I've always sort of sneered at the colony planets – called 'em dirtballs – thought everything I needed was on station." He took a deep breath of flower-scented air. "Well, I was wrong. Vids – even holosims – just don't give the real picture."

His attention was caught by a glittering, four-winged creature which hovered over the stream for a moment then darted away.

"What's that!" he gasped, pointing excitedly. "Is it a bird?"

Remus laughed. "No, it's – well, I call it a dragonfly, because it's quite like the dragonflies on Old Earth, if a bit bigger. But in fact it's one of the few native species of fauna we've found on Icarus."

"What other species are there?"

"Birds, mainly. We've imported some Earth species as well, and they seem to coexist quite happily with the natives. And we've imported other livestock too, as frozen ova – cows, horses, sheep. They don't seem to have any native Icaran counterparts." Remus thought for a moment. "I did find a wild bees' nest in the woods the other day."

"So all the native Icaran species have wings," mused Harry, watching the dragonfly as it darted back to hover over the quickly-running stream.

"Some water species as well," Remus said. "Only small things, though. Except maybe out in the ocean deeps. The planetary survey didn't extend that far." He looked thoughtful. "But you're right: all the land-based fauna _does_ have wings. I hadn't really thought of it like that before."

Remus turned back in the direction of the woods. "Come on, I'll show you more of the local plant life. Some of it's really beautiful, a lot of it's useful. Severus is always experimenting with the native flora in his pills and potions." He set off again at a fast lope. 

Harry followed more slowly. At the mention of Severus, he'd felt a sudden chill. He glanced up at Icarus' sun, half-expecting it to have gone behind a cloud. But it was shining as brightly as ever.

*

Severus added the last of his ingredients, mentally ticking it off his checklist. All he needed to do now was start the process, and if his new equipment worked as it should, he would have Remus' lunar antidote ready in a matter of hours rather than days. Which – glancing at his calendar – would be just as well. Time was running out.

He was just reaching towards the ON button when the laboratory door burst open and an uncharacteristically flustered Minerva McGonagall came hurrying in.

"Oh, Severus, I'm so glad I found you. I need your help."

He looked up, startled. "Minerva? What's wrong?"

"It's Quirinus Quirrell. He's disappeared."

*

Harry lay sprawled out on a patch of grass at the edge of the woods, sucking on a tender stalk and watching the sun sink slowly in the sky. A hundred metres behind him was the cabin, where Remus was busy preparing their evening meal. Over in the trees he could hear birds singing as they prepared to roost. He gave a long, satisfied sigh. He'd been here for several days now; there was still no news of the inbound colony ship, but Harry didn't mind. Remus seemed to have forgotten about the mineral deposits, concentrating instead on showing Harry the delights of his new planet. As he lay there, dusk falling, listening to the birds sing, Harry had never felt more at peace.

He must have dozed off, because when he next looked up at the sky it was completely dark, apart from a scattering of pinprick stars. Harry got slowly to his feet, trying to orientate himself. The cabin was that way? Or was it over there? As he peered into the darkness it was suddenly lightened by a huge white disk sailing out from behind a cloud. Icarus' moon. Harry's surroundings, which had seemed so friendly and peaceful in daylight, were suddenly mysterious, threatening. He stared uneasily around in the cold light of the moon: were those dark shapes over there bushes, or animals crouching ready to spring?

Harry told himself to get a grip. Hadn't Remus said that the only large animals on Icarus were the domesticated ones the colonists had brought with them? He turned from the bushes and was relieved to see the cabin, bathed in moonlight. But as he started towards it, he heard a long drawn-out, ululating howl, which certainly didn't come from any domesticated beast.

Worse was to follow: round the side of the cabin came a crouching figure at a fast lope which seemed horribly familiar to Harry. A moment later, he knew why. The moon shone full on the monster's face – covered in fur, with elongated fangs and baleful animal eyes – but still, recognisably, Remus.

And as Harry stood, frozen with shock, the creature began to stalk menacingly towards him, a low growl reverberating in its hairy throat.

* * * * * *

**Chapter Six**

As Harry lay, wrapped in a warm, peaceful haze, he dimly heard the sound of birdsong. Was it time to get up and go on shift already? He lifted his head; the birdsong grew louder. Harry languidly raised his hand, surprised how much effort it took, and waved it in the direction of the photobeam controlling his alarm. Nothing happened. The birds sang as lustily as ever.

Harry forced his heavy eyelids up and peered around his cabin. Only it wasn't his cabin. Instead of his familiar bunk, he was lying on a makeshift bed covered with rugs, and where the cubicle containing his sonic shower should have been, was a chair, and sitting on the chair...

"Ah, you're awake. Good."

The deep tones sent shivers through Harry, and with them, memory cascaded back.

"I'm on Icarus! Those are real birds outside! You're Severus Snape! And – and – oh fuck, what happened to Remus? What made him turn into that – that –"

"Monster," Severus supplied. He looked thoughtfully at Harry. "What I'm about to tell you is confidential, Mr Potter. Do you understand? And bear in mind that I know you are a Jumper."

Harry flushed. "You don't have to blackmail me," he said hotly. "If you tell me something in confidence, I'll respect that."

Severus looked at him oddly. "Not so like James, then," he murmured, but before Harry could ask him what he meant, he went on, "Remus is the victim of his genes, Mr Potter." He paused. "What do you know about the Expansionist wars on Old Earth?"

Harry thought back to history lessons at the Academy: boring lectures given by a hologram, where he'd spent most of his time ogling fit young men across the room, and copying Hermione's notes.

"Not a lot," he said honestly. "Weren't they when a military group tried to take over a neighbouring country – or planet – or something? Before wormhole technology opened up the galaxy for widespread colonisation." This last was a direct quote from a dimly-remembered essay of Hermione's.

Severus' lip curled, but he didn't comment on Harry's potted history of the bloodiest war that Old Earth had ever known.

"In essence, you are correct," he said, adopting a lecturing tone as if teaching an Academy class. "Although the _military group_ was in fact an unholy alliance of an insane dictator and his army with a coterie of unscrupulous military scientists. It is to the latter that Remus owes his... condition."

"What _is_ his condition? Exactly?" asked Harry, repressing a shudder as he remembered the feral eyes, the threatening fangs, the sheer speed with which Remus had come at him.

"These – _scientists_ ," the scorn in Severus' voice gave his opinion of them, "– carried out various experiments on their unfortunate soldiers. One was to create a warrior caste which would strike fear into the hearts of a superstitious populace. To this end, they created the werewolf gene."

"Werewolves!" gasped Harry. He remembered a holosim game he'd played at the Academy, in which he and his current boyfriend had been attacked by vampires and werewolves, and what Hermione had said about it afterwards. "They're a myth!"

"Of course they are," Severus said impatiently, "But these... scientists..." (again the scorn) "set out to produce, in their unhappy subjects, the legendary characteristics of the werewolf. Including its transformation being triggered by the full moon. Unfortunately, the condition is genetic – all their descendants bear it, too. As humans left Earth and the influence of its moon, however, the gene became dormant and all but forgotten. In Remus' case, the effect of Icarus' moon is similar enough to Earth's to reawaken it. Normally I can make him a medicine to suppress the worst of his symptoms, but this time..."

He winced at the thought, then got up from his chair and came over to Harry. "Let me see how your arm is doing."

"My arm?" Harry stared stupidly down at the rugs draped over his body. For the first time since he'd awoken, he became aware of a faint throbbing in his left arm.

Severus twitched back the covers and exposed Harry's arm, encircled by a neat bandage. He grasped Harry by the wrist and gently lifted the arm to his nostrils. 

Harry shivered at his touch, tried to cover it by asking, "So he did get me, then? I can't quite remember what happened... at the end..."

After sniffing at Harry's arm, Severus deftly unrolled the bandage to reveal a nasty, jagged wound, oozing pus. 

"Oh, yes," he said drily. "He got you."

He laid Harry's arm down on top of the covers and went to rummage around behind the head of the bed, out of Harry's sight, returning with a brimming glass.

"Before I treat your arm, you'd better drink some more of this."

Harry looked at it suspiciously. "And this is –?"

"Simple pain relief, that's all. You've had some already, you just don't remember."

Severus helped Harry to sit up in the bed, propped against a stack of cushions, and handed him the glass.

Harry downed it in one, and felt the warm, fuzzy feeling he'd wakened with begin to return. "Hey," he said, staring at his arm, "if he bit me, and he's a werewolf, does that mean I'll turn into one, too?"

Severus smirked. After waiting a long moment to savour the dawning panic in Harry's wide green eyes, he eventually reassured him.

"No. Evidently the gene-tinkerers had enough sense to draw the line there. They must have felt that passing on the condition to the people they were trying to subjugate might well prove... counterproductive." He took the empty glass from Harry and moved away, returning with a cloth covered in green goo. "A poultice," he told Harry, answering the look in those expressive eyes. "I made it from some of the plants I grow here."

He expertly wrapped the poultice around Harry's arm and retied the bandage around it. "Although Remus' bite won't turn you into a werewolf, the saliva does contain some nasty toxins." He hesitated. "I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," he added gruffly, "but at least I stopped him from going for your throat. That would've been next."

"How _did_ you stop him?" Harry asked.

"I shot him in the arse with a tranq dart," Severus said, with such an air of grim satisfaction that Harry couldn't repress a delighted snort of laughter. Then he sobered.

"You saved my life," he said. "I don't know how to thank you."

Severus gave him a long, serious look. Harry blushed, started talking fast, at random.

"So, where are we? This isn't Remus' cabin – but I can hear birds outside like I did there – it can't be the colonist settlement, surely? Did that ship arrive? What –"

Severus held up his hand to stop the frantic flow of words. "Relax, Potter. To answer your questions: we are not in Remus' cabin. Remus is there, sleeping off the effects of my dart and the full moon. We are in a hut I use sometimes when collecting plants and fungi from the woods. And no, the colony ship has not yet arrived." He lowered his hand, hesitated, then placed it over Harry's forehead. "Hmm, slight fever," he murmured. "Try and sleep for a while. I must go and check on Remus."

In spite of himself, Harry felt his eyelids closing. "You will come back?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Of course."

*

As Severus made his way through the woods towards Remus' hideout, his thoughts were uncharacteristically confused. On closer acquaintance, the Pottersp– no, _Harry_ , had proved to be unexpectedly appealing. Brave, too, the way he'd recovered from his frozen shock and shoved his forearm into Remus' jaws, trying to fend him off from his throat. And those eyes, which held a completely different expression from Lily's... no. He mustn't be beguiled. Until he knew what had brought Harry to Icarus, he must keep up his guard.

Although, those eyes...

Severus put all thoughts of Harry out of his mind as he reached Remus' cabin and let himself in. The werewolf was sprawled out on his bunk much as Severus had left him, snoring and twitching, no doubt chasing rabbits in his sleep. Severus bent over him and made a swift assessment, then straightened up, satisfied. Remus would do well enough until the moon's influence waned: his features were already subtly less wolflike, more human. And Severus' drugs would keep him quiet until he was himself again.

About to leave the cabin, his attention was caught by the untidy pile strewn across the second bunk. Severus sorted through them: an empty backpack, a half-eaten bar of chocolate, a chunk of rock, a few items of clothing, a depilator, and a pocket-sized personal computing unit, more technically advanced than any Severus had seen before. These must be Harry's things. Deciding he'd better take them back with him, Severus stowed Harry's possessions neatly away in the backpack. When he came to the personal unit he hesitated, then gave way to his curiosity and flicked it on.

The tiny screen lit immediately and his own face glared up at him.

Severus glared back, feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach. To think he'd started to trust that – that – _green-eyed snake_! When all along, Potter's reason for coming to Icarus was to spy on him, Severus Snape. Why else would he have Severus' picture, if not for identification purposes? He looked at it more closely, noting the slightly out-of-focus equipment on the bench behind him, the minuscule datestamp along the bottom. He tapped the region of the datestamp, enlarged it to readable size, frowned. This picture had been taken on Galactic date 10.05.2120, only a few days before the council had advertised the mineralogist's job. Was somebody on the council in league with Potter?

Well, he'd soon find out. His mouth set in a grim line, Severus turned off the unit and dropped it into his pocket. Then he picked up the Potterspawn's backpack and left Remus' cabin, slamming the door behind him. Remus twitched in his drugged sleep, but did not wake.

Severus strode off through the woods, but not in the direction of his hut, not yet. First he'd visit the patch of Verity flowers he was carefully cultivating, and pick the biggest, most potent ones he could find. He didn't have time to go back to his laboratory in the settlement to create the truth drug, but a simple infusion of the petals should suffice for his purpose. That, he could easily concoct in the lean-to behind his hut. 

Severus' lip lifted in a snarl. The Potterspawn's next dose of pain relief was going to have an extra ingredient. _Then_ he would find out what the little traitor's evil game was.

And make him pay.

* * * * * *

**Chapter Seven**

Harry stirred uneasily, opened his eyes. He felt hot and thirsty, and his arm was throbbing painfully again. There was no sign of Severus. He pushed back the covers, hauled himself upright, looked around for something to drink.

That's when he heard it: an indistinct noise coming from the other side of the hut's back wall. Shuffling? Banging? Harry gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat, head swimming, gathering his strength to get up. The noise came again. What was it? Some wild animal? No, there weren't any on Icarus. Remus had told him that. He caught his breath. Maybe it _was_ Remus! Perhaps Severus' tranq dart hadn't been as powerful as he'd thought. Maybe Remus had overpowered him and was now coming for Harry...

Gritting his teeth, Harry hoisted himself painfully to his feet. Cradling his sore left arm with his right, he stumbled over to the door. He had to let go of his arm in order to grab the door handle, or he would have fallen over. He leant against the door for a long moment, taking deep breaths, then cautiously let himself out into the glade.

He stood outside the hut, wondering what he should do. Run? He wouldn't get very far in this condition. Put Remus out of action? That sounded equally unlikely, but maybe Remus was as muzzy and disorientated as he was himself. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon.

Severus heard unsteady footsteps and looked up from the trestle table where he was preparing roots, bark and flowers for the Potterspawn's medication. Lurching round the side of the hut, green eyes glassy with fever, clutching a broken branch, came Harry himself. He looked so vulnerable and appealing that Severus had to force back his inappropriate thoughts.

"Oh! S'you!" Harry mumbled. He threw away the branch. "Thought it mi' be Remus." He stumbled closer, banged into the table. "Wha're you doing?"

"Preparing something to ease your pain and lower your fever," Severus said, hastily nudging the Verity flowers out of sight under the chopping block. He didn't think Potter would recognise them, but then, he hadn't thought Potter seemed like a spy, either. "Go back inside and lie down," he said harshly.

Potter was swaying on his feet. "Too hot in there," he complained. "An' 'm thirsty. Can't I stay here in the shade?"

Severus felt himself weakening again, and sternly told himself to get a grip. Of course his enemies would choose somebody attractive as a spy. Hell, they probably sprayed him with something to make him irresistible. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see Potter as he really was, under the little-boy-lost glamour.

Harry staggered, caught hold of the table top. "Please?"

Severus sighed. On the other hand, Harry was genuinely ill. 

"Hold on," he said brusquely, stooping to pick up a hammock lying rolled up under his table. He swiftly slung it in the lower branches of a huge old tree and helped Harry to lie down inside. 

Best to have the Potterspawn where he could keep an eye on him.

*

With evening came some relief from the heat. Harry lay quietly in the hammock, savouring the cool breeze which fanned his face and rustled the leaves in the tree above. Severus had refreshed the poultice on his arm and dosed him with something which did seem to have brought down his fever. Then he'd left Harry to doze in the hammock, muttering something about another medicine he had to prepare. As Harry was facing away from the hut, he hadn't been able to see what Severus was doing, but odd sounds of chopping, water boiling and Severus muttering had drifted to him on the breeze, together with the sweet scent of flowers. Mostly, though, he could hear birds calling – he could even see some, hopping and fluttering in the branches above him.

Harry was watching two grey-and-white birds sidling up to one another, and wondering if they were about to mate, when Severus approached the hammock carrying a brimming glass. 

"Time for your medicine," he said, holding it out until Harry reluctantly reached out his hand and took it.

"Do I need any more? I feel fine now."

"Stop whining," Severus said – unfairly, Harry felt. "Drink it up."

Harry shrugged, and obeyed. He was expecting Severus to go away again, but he stayed, leaning against the trunk of the tree and watching Harry intently. After a few minutes Harry's vision began to blur, and he felt an overwhelming desire to giggle.

"Hey, whadyer give me? Sev'rus?"

Severus' voice was low and hypnotic. "I'll ask the questions. Now, how did you reach Icarus?"

"On the shuttle," Harry said. He chuckled. "Think the pilot was surprised to see me. Usually carries freight, not people. But I'm a Jumper. Did you know that? Freaks some people out. Not me. But I don't –"

"And before that?" Severus interrupted him. "Where were you before that? In your last job."

"Space Station Sigma," Harry replied promptly. "I was a newsjock. Good place, Sigma. Plenty of hot guys. And hoopball. I like playing hoopball. Have you ever played –"

Severus interrupted him again. "A newsjock? I thought you were supposed to be a mineralogist."

"Mineralogy's _boring_. Hermione sent me all sorts of files about it. She's very smart, Hermione is. We were at the Academy together. Me and my mate Ron used to copy her notes." Harry giggled. "Made her really mad. She said –"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed deeply. 

"Are – you – a – mineralogist," he said, slowly and distinctly.

"Me? No! I told you, I'm a newsjock. But I had to _pretend_ to be one, to get the job here. It was the only job they had going, you see. I was a bit scared that Remus would find me out, when he took me to see the mineral deposit in that cave." For the first time, the open look on Harry face faltered; he frowned, seemed uneasy. "But I don't think we did see it. No, and then Remus forgot about it. He took me walking in the woods instead. Remus is a cute guy, but I don't fancy him. He forgets things, though, did I tell you? He must have forgotten about his medicine, because he turned into a werewolf. He was really scary. If I'd known there were werewolves here, I might not've applied for the job on Icarus. No, but I prob'ly would even then, 'cos –"

Severus leaned forward. Under all the garbage, at last he seemed to be getting somewhere. "Why did you want a job here? Why Icarus?"

"Icarus. Icarus is a colony planet. I used to think colony planets were all dirtballs. Jason thought so too. He was hot. One of the hottest guys I've been with. But I still think the all time hottest guy I've ever had was Blaise, back at the Academy. Or maybe it was –"

Tuning out the Potterbabble, Severus pondered how best to phrase his next question.

"So you wanted to be a colonist?"

"Not really, but like I said I wanted to come here anyway, and even more when Kingsley told me –"

Severus felt his temper begin to rise. He had no desire to hear what Kingsley had told Potter, whoever Kingsley was – no doubt yet another of this vain, shallow youth's conquests. He pulled the incriminatory personal unit out of his pocket, flipped it on, shook it under the Potterspawn's nose.

"What can you tell me about _this_ ," he hissed.

Harry squinted to bring the tiny screen into focus. Then a beatific smile spread over his face as he stared at Severus' picture. "He's gorgeous, isn't he? As soon as I saw him, I knew I had to meet him."

There was a sudden silence. Even the birds had stopped singing. 

"Why was that?" Severus asked carefully. "Why did you have to meet – him?"

Harry rubbed his eyes, blinked. "I fancied him, of course." His gaze travelled to Severus' and a blinding smile lit up his face. "I fancied _you_. You've the most fascinating face. So sexy. As soon as I saw you on the video feed I knew I wanted us to fuck –"

"What video feed?" interrupted Severus. His head was spinning, but he had to get to the bottom of this.

"The newsfeed from Icarus, of course. I'm a newsjock, I have to select the best stuff from the feeds all over the galaxy and rebroadcast it to the station screens. But when I saw your face, I didn't rebroadcast that: I kept it for myself. You were in some sort of lab, stirring something in a beaker. I don't think you liked being filmed, you signalled to them to cut the feed –" Harry pantomimed slashing his own throat, "– but I'd got your picture by then." His voice turned puzzled. "Jason didn't seem so hot, after that."

Severus remembered that day; remembered the intrusive camera. Little had he thought it would lead to _this_. As he stared at Harry in wonder, a single bird began to sing again, from the very top of the tree – a lovely, liquid cascade of notes. Harry's eyes were already beginning to close in the sleep which Verity flowers always induced after they had done their work of producing truth, but the beautiful birdsong temporarily roused him. 

"Glorious," he breathed, looking up into the tree, his green eyes shining.

"Yes," said Severus, but he was looking at Harry. "Glorious..."

A moment later, Harry was fast asleep. Severus leaned against the tree trunk, staring at him and feeling his cock begin to harden. Who knew what he would have done next, but a shrill beeping from his wristcom brought him to his senses. He tapped it in acknowledgement, held it to his ear.

"Severus?" The tiny voice was McGonagall's.

"Minerva."

"Where have you been, Severus? Oh well, never mind. Are you alone?"

Severus glanced at Harry, sleeping peacefully in the hammock. "One moment."

He walked round the side of the hut, leaned against the door. "What is it, Minerva?"

"Quirrell has turned up. He wandered into the settlement half an hour ago."

Severus frowned. "Does he have any explanation for his absence?"

Even with the wristcom's attenuation, he could hear a definite tone of scepticism in her voice. "He _says_ he doesn't remember anything. Claims he had another blackout."

"I wonder whether we should request an emergency shuttle run." Severus mused. "I really need to consult my contact about those brain scans." 

"Leave it with me, Severus. I'll see what I can do." She paused for a moment. "When are you coming back to the settlement?"

"Not for another day or two," Severus said. "I have plants to gather – and I'm helping Remus with Harry Potter's orientation."

"Oh, good, I'm so pleased you're getting along. Well, I'll see you in a few days, then. And I'll put a discreet watch on Quirrell. Just in case."

Severus nodded, even though the wristcom was audio only, and killed the link. Then he pulled a stool out from the hut and sat in the doorway, staring unseeingly into the trees surrounding the glade. Getting along. With a Potter. Yes, he supposed he was. He was still stunned by the revelation that Harry had crossed the galaxy on a whim, because he thought he, Severus, was sexy. What was he going to do about it? He knew what his cock wanted to do about it, but was it wise? 

He shook his head impatiently. After all, what was wrong with a quick fling? So long as he treated this shallow, promiscuous youth on his own terms, he'd be OK. As long as he remembered that crossing the galaxy was like a stroll in the park for a Jumper, and that as soon as Harry's sexual curiosity was satisfied he'd certainly be flitting off to the next 'hot guy' that caught his fancy...

When Harry woke up, he felt refreshed and happy. Then he remembered talking to Severus, telling him that he thought he was sexy, that he wanted them to fuck. And then he'd fallen asleep. Harry squirmed. What would Severus be thinking? Well, there was only one way to find out. After a few ineffectual swings, Harry managed to scramble out of the hammock. He walked round to the front of the hut. Severus was sitting in the doorway, smoking a nicostick.

"Hi," Harry said tentatively.

Severus looked up at him, his face serious. "Did you mean what you said – that the reason you crossed the galaxy was because you wanted us to fuck?" 

Harry raised his eyebrows, shrugged helplessly. "Yep."

A feral grin spread over Severus' face.

"So. Let's fuck."

* * * * * *

**Chapter Eight**

Dusk was closing in now, and Harry could only see Severus clearly when he drew on his nicostick; it lit his sardonic features with an eerie glow; his eyes were dark pools, giving nothing away.

"Do you really mean that? You want us to fuck?" Harry asked.

Severus pinched out his nicostick and flipped it away into the bushes. He slowly got to his feet. His voice rough, he said, "Why not?" and led the way into his hut.

Once he'd closed the door behind them, Harry could barely see in the gloom. He fumbled his way towards where he thought the bed was and swore as he banged his bad arm against something on the way. Severus was instantly beside him, guiding him. 

"Can't we have some light?" Harry said. "I want to see your face."

Severus pulled Harry close to him, his hands searching and predatory. "I have no desire to see yours."

"Why not?" Harry asked, his voice hurt. "Do you want to pretend I'm somebody else?" He felt Severus begin to peel away his clothes, and wondered whether he should try and stop him. 

"No. I don't want to be reminded of... somebody else."

Harry opened his mouth to ask who, but then remembered what Remus had said about Severus hating his father, James. That must be it.

"OK," he murmured, surrendering to Severus' onslaught. "If that's how you want it."

Soon, Severus had Harry naked on the bed. He was by no means gentle, but he avoided the bandaged bite on Harry's arm as he stroked and tweaked and ran his hands repeatedly over Harry's body until both men were achingly hard and mouthing their need against each other's skin. 

Harry lifted his legs and clamped them around Severus' angular body; Severus brought his hands round to cup Harry's arsecheeks, squeezing and parting them. One long finger probed his opening; Harry gasped.

Muttering something under his breath, Severus withdrew his finger and groped among the tumbled bedding until his hand found the tube of lubricant he used during his visits to this hut. He twisted off the cap, releasing a herbal aroma and a flood of shameful memories. With a groan he buried his face in Harry's hair, inhaling his warm, male, slightly sweaty scent. For tonight, he could forget those solitary occasions: this time he was not alone. 

The lubricant pooled in his cupped palm, cooling his heated skin. He spread it lavishly over both their erections, dipped up more in his fingers, worked it into Harry's enticing pucker. Replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, he eased it through the guardian rings of muscle to the hot tight delight within. No need to waste too much time stretching him, this young man was certainly no stranger to cock. And with that thought, Severus thrust deeply, almost savagely, home.

Harry bit his lip, his erection wilting slightly: the sudden lunge had been unexpected, but, after the first burn, undoubtedly arousing. He clenched himself around Severus and keened with pleasure. He'd enjoyed all sorts of sex tricks with his boyfriends over the years, but when it came down to it there was nothing like the feeling of a man's cock completely filling his arse. His own erection revived, squeezed rhythmically, almost painfully, between their bodies as Severus fucked him.

Severus' steady pace faltered as he felt himself close to coming – this was too soon, far sooner than he'd wanted, but Harry's tight, lithe young body was urging him on and he couldn't hold back any longer. With a long drawn out cry which faltered between agony and ecstasy, he spilled uncontrollably into Harry's enclosing heat.

The knowledge that he'd made Severus come, and come so hard, tipped Harry over his own precipice, and he followed with copious spurts of spunk which mingled with the slick film of lubricant and sweat coating their skin. 

His lips curved in triumph. _This_ was what he'd crossed the galaxy for; _this_ was why he'd braved the terrors of the wormhole...

*

Some time later, Harry awoke. The moon had risen and was shining through a gap in the hut's roof. In its light, Harry could see a straggle of black hair on the pillow beside him. He stroked it with proprietorial pride. This man was _his_ now.

Then he frowned. There was no denying it, Severus had been... odd. After they'd fucked, he'd tried to throw Harry out of bed, almost as if it had been a paid encounter in some seedy spacedock bar. Admittedly he was half asleep at the time, and when Harry had said something about his arm hurting, he'd immediately become all concern, had insisted on rebandaging it and soothing Harry to sleep with a glassful of his pain medicine. And he was still here, wasn't he? But then again, there'd been that hurtful remark about not wanting to see Harry's face as they fucked. 

He sighed. Severus was certainly a complex character, unlike anyone Harry had ever met before. Unlike anyone Harry had ever been to _bed_ with before. But well worth getting to know. Oh, yes. Turning so he was spooned up against Severus' back, with his injured arm – bent at the elbow – on top of the covers, Harry went back to sleep.

The next time he woke the hut was bright with sunshine, birds were singing loudly and cheerfully outside, and Severus had gone.

*

Severus strode through the woods towards Remus' cabin. In spite of himself he could not stop an unaccustomed smile curving his thin lips. Last night had been... remarkable. He couldn't remember ever having been so sexually satisfied. Then the thought of the many partners who must have contributed to Harry's expertise darkened his mood. He must never forget he was just one in a long line to the young man, no doubt to be forgotten as easily as the rest when Harry moved on.

His body must have disobeyed him at some fundamental level, for when he opened Remus' door the werewolf greeted him with a sour, "What are you looking so happy about?"

"Good to see you, too," Severus responded. "Have you recovered from my tranq dart?"

"So that's what it was," Remus grumbled. "What was it loaded for, eleph–" He broke off, nostrils quivering, and a sly grin spread over his face. "Ah, so that's why you're looking so cheerful."

Severus cursed himself for not cleaning himself more thoroughly before leaving his hut. He'd forgotten how keen Remus' senses were, even when he'd reverted to human form.

"Yes," he snapped, "I'm looking cheerful because I succeeded in rescuing Potter from a mauling, and I think I may even be able to save his arm."

It was ludicrous to see how quickly Remus' face fell. "Oh shit. Did I –? Oh no. Is he OK?"

"No thanks to you," Severus said maliciously, enjoying rubbing salt in the wound. At least it was distracting Remus from what he smelt like. "But you'd better stay away from my hut for a bit. I don't think he'll be too pleased to see you."

Remus groaned, rubbing his hands across his face. "Fuck. Is there anything I can do?"

"Just keep out of our way," said Severus. "I'll look after him till he can be infiltrated into the colony." He regarded Remus' woebegone expression and relented. "He's just got the one bite on his arm and it's responding well to treatment. I only hope that colony ship doesn't arrive until his arm's cured – be hard to explain how he got _that_ in coldsleep." 

Remus nodded, his guilty expression lightening. "In that case, maybe I should go back to the settlement now. Any messages from Minerva?"

"She called me last night, actually," Severus said. "Apparently Quirrell is back, claiming he had a blackout."

"I'll _definitely_ go back to the settlement, then. Sounds like he needs watching." Remus began to move around his cabin, picking up items and stowing them in a carrisack. Severus was pleased to see that he was limping slightly. "Severus? Would you mind taking over the daily checks on the forcefield generator, up by the cave? I'll do it before I leave, so no need to check again until tomorrow."

Severus nodded, turning towards the door. As he left the cabin, he heard Remus say, "Oh, and Severus? – I'll be sure to tell Minerva that Harry is in good – _hands_ – with you."

He closed the door firmly on the sound of the werewolf's laughter.

*

When Severus got back to his hut, he found Harry sitting outside on the grass, spooning up cereal from Severus' bowl. His _only_ bowl. He scowled, suddenly realising how hungry he felt.

Harry smiled up at Severus so disarmingly that, without quite knowing how he got there, he found himself sitting on the grass beside him, accepting a spoonful of cereal. They ate turn about with great relish until the bowl was scraped clean. Then Severus leaned back against a tree trunk, studying his companion. The sun shining through the leaves cast dappled shadows across Harry's face; he looked the picture of a fuckable young man, smiling enigmatically, hair rumpled. His shirt was unfastened and hanging free, his sleeves were loosely rolled up above his elbows. Severus' attention sharpened. The bandage on Harry's forearm seemed loose.

"Let me look at that."

Harry shrugged, held out his arm. "It's fine."

Severus unwrapped the bandage. The green goo on Harry's arm had dried and started to flake off. Underneath, the wound was looking much better, less inflamed. 

"Maybe we should leave the bandage off for now," he said. "I'll make up an antiseptic paste for you, later." His hand stayed on Harry's arm and Harry leant in to him, smiling.

"Thanks for taking care of me."

Severus stilled. "Last night –" he began awkwardly. "I know it probably wasn't what you're used to, but –"

"What are you talking about?" Harry said. "It was _brilliant_." He grinned. "Though it is a shame we can't do one of my favourite things on a dirtb– uh, planet." He leaned back, smiling into Severus' eyes. "And that's null-g sex." He chuckled. "The cleanup afterwards can be tricky, though, you can't imagine – all those balls of jizz floating around the cabin." 

Severus put his arm around him. "Planetary life does have its compensations," he murmured.

"Such as?"

"Oh – outdoor sex, for example."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you like. Up a mountain. In the ocean." Severus' voice dropped suggestively. "Here..."

Harry snuggled closer. 

"Thought you'd never ask..."

* * * * * *

**Chapter Nine**

"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows..." murmured Severus.

Harry smiled up at him, confused. "What?"

Severus seemed to bring his attention back from a long way off. 

"Oh, just a quotation. You wouldn't have heard of it." He looked down his long nose at Harry. "I just meant I know a good place in the forest for... sexual activities. It's where I grow some of my medicinal plants." He set off into the trees, calling back over his shoulder, "Come on!"

Harry followed him, feeling obscurely hurt. Then he shrugged it off. No doubt he would get to understand Severus and his strange moods better the more they got to know each other. After all, they had plenty of time.

Half an hour later, they reached a glade ringed with tall trees. It was so well hidden that Harry told himself that he would never have been able to find it without Severus' guidance. He stood still, looking around him in awe. The sun shining through the tree leaves cast moving shadows across the clearing, whose floor was carpeted with smooth turf and flowerbeds. Brightly-coloured insects hovered and darted around the flowers; the breeze wafted mingled scents to him, both soothing and arousing. Harry took a deep breath, his eyes shining.

"It's magical."

Severus put his arm around Harry and led him over to a mossy slope leading down to a tiny streamlet, which burbled and chuckled happily to itself as it ran over shining pebbles and away into the forest. The two men sat down on thick cushions of moss, looking down at the brook. Unable to resist, Harry pulled off his footwear and dipped his bare toes into the water.

Severus studied him for a moment, his face twisting in a grimace. Then he casually reached out and plucked a couple of leaves from a broad-leaved plant growing near the top of the slope. He crushed them between his fingers, inhaling their aroma, then passed them to Harry.

Harry sniffed the curiously tangy smell and gasped as an unexpected spike of lust shot through him. Eyes widening, he looked up at Severus, who was regarding him with the fierce, intent stare of a bird of prey.

"Wait, I don't need..." he protested, but Severus caught his fingers in his own, pinching them cruelly together and pushing them to his nostrils so he was forced to inhale the herb's potent scent. 

Desire raged through him; his cock was impossibly hard, straining to burst through his clothes; it was a relief when Severus tore them off and bent his head to take Harry in his demanding mouth. Harry moaned and jerked his hips, thrusting up into the moist warmth. He had never felt so wanton, so out of control.

Severus pulled back and looked up from between Harry's legs, his eyes wild.

"Well? Aren't you going to reciprocate?"

For a moment Harry didn't understand, his mind hazed and clouded by lust. Then he smiled.

"Of course," he breathed, and, hands shaking and clumsy, helped Severus out of his clothes. The two men curled together in a soixante-neuf on the mossy bank. Harry buried his face in Severus' groin, breathing in his musky, masculine scent. Open-mouthed and all but drooling, he ran his tongue up and down the impressive shaft of Severus' cock, at the same time gratefully aware of Severus resuming his ministrations to Harry's own.

Harry felt he was on the point of exploding from sensory overload. Sight and sound, scent, taste and touch: all combined to overwhelm him. The glitter of sun on stream, glimpsed through half-closed eyelids and Severus' legs. The sighing of the wind in the trees, the joyful birdsong. The heady scent of sun-warmed flowers. And, above all, Severus. Everything else faded away, and there was only Severus.

Breathlessly sobbing out his pleasure between hard sucks on Severus' cock, Harry came helplessly into his lover's mouth. He was dimly aware of Severus' Adam's apple bobbing against his groin as his come was swallowed down, of the impatient thrusts into his mouth as Severus demanded his own satisfaction. Gathering his wits, Harry relaxed his muscles and deep-throated Severus, who immediately came with such a flood of spunk that Harry very nearly choked.

Spent, he lay back on the moss. In their frenzy they'd rolled partway down the slope, so when Harry flung out his arm he found his fingers trailing in the cool water of the brook. He lay just as he was, happy and relaxed, letting the warm breeze dry the sweat on his naked body.

He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes it was to see Severus, fully clothed, kneeling beside him. Harry sleepily reached up his arm to pull Severus down for a kiss, but he was baulked by the older man taking his arm firmly in one hand and stretching it out to examine the half-healed werewolf bite.

"Mmm, it's looking much better," Severus mused. "I must pick some dittany hybrid to take back; that will help reduce any scarring. Get dressed while I collect my plants, then we'll be on our way." 

The dark eyes which met Harry's showed no sign of the passion they'd just shared.

*

In many ways this encounter set the pattern for the week that followed. As time passed, and the mark on Harry's arm slowly faded, he and Severus had sex at least once a day – but always Harry had the feeling that, although they were physically as intimate as two people can be, Severus' inner self remained as remote from him as ever. For himself, he was confused: he enjoyed the sex, of course he did, but for once in his life it wasn't enough – he wanted something... deeper. One small concession he had managed to win: Severus no longer seemed to require either darkness or herbal assistance for their coupling. Maybe he was at last beginning to see Harry as himself, rather than as an unfortunate echo from a past Harry had been too young to remember.

Harry was brooding on this one morning in the hammock behind the hut; it had become his favourite spot when, as now, Severus was away – tending his plants, running daily checks on the forcefield generator up by the cave, and whatever other mysterious ploys he got up to where Harry was not required, or welcome. A few spots of rain had started to fall, and Harry was just thinking he should get up and go inside. Planetary weather was a new thing to him, and the first time he'd been caught out in a rainstorm it had frightened him rather, but now he was starting to treat it with the same insouciance as Severus himself.

Swinging expertly out of the hammock, Harry found himself caught and held close. 

"Hey!" he said, half protesting, half laughing, "You sure know how to creep up on a guy."

He felt the deep rumble of Severus' rare laughter against his chest.

"I thought we could do something different, today."

"Different?" Harry repeated, trying and failing to think of some sexual position they hadn't tried yet. That could be achieved in full gravity, anyway; he didn't think Severus was proposing a trip into space. 

Severus raised a supercilious eyebrow, obviously fully aware of Harry's thoughts. "I _meant_ we should take a trip to the ocean."

"Oh!" Harry gasped. "That's great. I've seen oceans on vids of course, and I dream about floating in the sea sometimes, but I've never been to one in real life."

Severus hesitated, an odd look on his face. Harry was sure he was about to say something more about oceans, and raised his eyebrows enquiringly. But Severus seemed to think better of it; the old, distant look came back, and he turned away, saying only, "We'd better take my landskimmer; it's quite a distance."

_Landskimmer?_ Harry thought, as he followed him into the forest. _I didn't know he had a landskimmer – whatever they are. Must be some sort of transport._

He shrugged. Oh well. Yet another thing he hadn't known about Severus Snape.

*

The landskimmer ride didn't take long. Harry soon found out that its name was misleading, for while the small two-man craft could indeed skim along close to the planet's surface, it was also capable of rising quite high off the ground – which it frequently did when Severus was avoiding obstacles such as trees and mountains. The canopy was pushed back, letting air stream past their faces as Severus took them up, up, then swooped back down, apparently just for the sheer hell of it. Harry whooped with excitement, itching to get his hands on the controls. Maybe Severus would let him have a go on the way back?

Soon Harry was pointing and shouting as he caught his first sight of the ocean. Severus put them into a steep dive, angling to land on a stretch of golden sand. Harry could see that the land curved around it, forming a sheltered bay. Where the sand met the sea a line of white surf was splashing and reaching, splashing and retreating. As they got closer, he could see some dark, wet, ribbon-like things strewn haphazardly just above the waterline.

"Seaweed," Severus said laconically, when Harry pointed them out. He hovered the landskimmer over the beach, blowing up clouds of sand. He had a tiny frown between his eyes as he looked out over the bay to the sea; Harry felt his remoteness, and shivered.

Then Severus set the landskimmer carefully down on the beach, well away from the water, and popped the door catch. Harry followed him out onto the sand.

"Aren't you going to lock it?"

Severus gave him a sardonic look. "Why, you think a sea creature will rise up out of the ocean and steal it?"

Harry felt himself going red. "I keep forgetting I'm on a dirtball," he muttered sulkily. "On Sigma a cool craft like this would need to be magclamped to a bulkhead."

He turned away from Severus and stared out to sea. It was certainly worth looking at. They'd left the rainy weather behind in the forest, and the sun was sparkling on the endlessly-moving wave tops. The blue sky above seemed reflected in the sea below, especially out on the horizon where it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

"Shall we go in?" asked Severus. He was already beginning to undress.

Harry remembered dreams he'd sometimes had when he was still on Sigma – what a long time ago _that_ seemed! – where he'd been floating on his back in an ocean full of water, basking in the warmth of the sun. Now he could actually do it. Eagerly, he joined Severus in tugging off his clothes. 

Naked, they walked towards the surf, leaving their clothes in a pile beside the landskimmer. Harry began to run, enjoying the unusual sensation of smooth, damp sand squidging between his toes. He entered the water with a great splashing and shouts of delight. 

For a moment, as Severus watched him, a shadow came over his face. Then he shook his head irritably and plunged in to join him. The beach shelved quite steeply and they were soon thigh-deep in water. Severus stopped, bracing himself against the current, and called to Harry, who was already much further out.

Harry turned, saw Severus waiting with his arms outspread, and began to wade back towards him. Then he was caught by surprise and a huge wave, much bigger than the ones which had gone before. It lifted him off his feet and swept him, shrieking with laughter, towards his lover. Their bodies collided and they tumbled together in the surf, arms wrapped around each other. 

Severus' eyes turned intense; he nuzzled into Harry's neck, nipping then biting. They floated together in the warm, slightly salty water, dipping and lifting in the incoming waves. Severus' hand explored, found Harry's cock.

Harry gave a happy sigh. Bobbing up and down in the sea, sun shining in his face, Severus' hand on his cock – what could be better? Ah, yes... His hand did its own exploring, dipping beneath the water, fighting against the sea's buoyancy which would insist on trying to bring it back to the surface. With a gentleness they'd not so far shown one another, the two men stroked each other to completion, cradled and rocked by the ocean's swell.

[ ](http://www.pornbunnyfarm.com/files/sshpbb2-cm.jpg)

Afterwards, Harry had the sense that the aura of sadness which often hung around Severus had lifted; he smiled when Harry said, "Even better than null-g sex!" and responded, "No chasing down balls of jizz in your cabin, hmm?"

Reluctantly, they at last emerged dripping from the sea and made their way up the beach to the pile of clothes next to the landskimmer. Severus reached into the cockpit and pulled out a couple of towels. Handing one to Harry, he coughed and said, "Harry, there's something I –"

He was interrupted by a frenzied beeping, coming from underneath their clothes. With a muttered _fuck, what now_ , he tossed them aside with his bare foot, at last uncovering his wristcom. By the time he'd raised it to his ear, the beeping had stopped. Severus squinted at the tiny screen, his face grim.

"Minerva," he said. "Trying to reach me from the settlement. Several times, by the look of it." 

The beeping started up again; this time, Severus answered. Although he held his wristcom up to his ear, the tiny, annoyed voice was plainly audible to Harry as well.

"Severus! At last! Where have you been? Oh well, never mind, you can explain yourself later. Do you have Harry Potter with you?"

Severus looked at Harry, his face again shuttered. "I do."

"Oh, thank goodness for that. That overdue colony ship is incoming. If we're to pass him off as a colonist, Harry must be isolated in the coldsleep revival wing of the medical facility at once."

There was a long silence. Then the tiny voice spoke again.

"Did you hear me, Severus? You are to bring Harry Potter to the settlement. _Immediately_."

* * * * * *

**Chapter Ten**

Their journey to the colonists' settlement completely lacked the joy of their trip to the ocean. Neither man spoke. Severus flew his landskimmer competently, routinely, with none of his earlier high-spirited swoops and dives; Harry hadn't the heart to ask him for a turn at the controls.

They came in low, skirting the huddle of domes and stone buildings, finally coming to a halt behind a single-story, windowless structure set a little apart from the rest.

"This is the medical facility," Severus said, "restricted entrance. They're expecting you; just go straight in. You'd better go quickly, before anyone gets curious." The bleak look on his face was far removed from their magic moment at the beach, before Minerva's call had changed everything.

"Cheer up," Harry said, wanting to touch him but feeling oddly inhibited, "I won't be in there forever." He slowly unbuckled his seat harness, wanting to make the moment last as long as he could.

"Three weeks at least in medical isolation," Severus said, "you'll have forgotten about me long before that's over."

"Hey," Harry protested, starting to get annoyed, "you really think I'm that shallow?"

Severus gave him a dark look. "Aren't you?"

Before Harry could reply, Severus popped the door catch and pushed him roughly out of the cockpit. The door hissed shut, leaving Harry standing forlornly outside the landskimmer, with no choice but to obey Severus and go into the medical facility. Even so, he still hesitated, his eyes fixed on the little craft.

Then a voice behind him called out, "You must be Harry Potter? Do come inside. Quickly, now!"

He turned to see a stern-looking woman standing in the entrance of the medical facility, beckoning to him and frowning.

*

"No visitors," Poppy Pomfrey said firmly.

Harry batted his eyelashes at her. "Aw, Poppy..."

He'd rapidly discovered that the head of the medical facility wasn't quite as forbidding as she looked, but on this point she stood firm.

"Even if Severus wanted to see you, which sounds doubtful from what you've told me –"

Not for the first time, Harry regretted the diatribe about Severus' lack of faith in him which had burst from his lips as he and Poppy Pomfrey stood at the entrance to the medical facility, watching the landskimmer depart in a cloud of dust.

"Yeah, well, I've thought about that. If he knows I want him to visit –"

"No visitors," Poppy repeated. It seemed to be one of her mantras, along with _you'll find out in due course_ and _it's all for your own good_.

"And how long _do_ I have to stay in here, anyway? I thought the idea was to infiltrate me with the colonists that just came in on that ship, but shouldn't I be with them? Not that I'm complaining –" Harry looked around the little room; some might have found it claustrophobic, but it reminded him comfortingly of his cabin back on Space Station Sigma, "– but why aren't I in the cryorevival ward with the others?"

A new voice spoke from the doorway: female, authoritative, with a slight accent which Harry couldn't place, but which he thought he might have heard somewhere before.

"Perhaps I should answer Mr Potter's questions, Poppy?"

Poppy Pomfrey turned as the newcomer entered the room.

"If you think that's best, Minerva," she said.

Harry started. Minerva! No wonder he'd thought her voice sounded familiar. The last time he'd heard it, it had been coming from Severus' wristcom, bringing their idyll to an abrupt halt. He regarded her appraisingly.

Tall, elderly, hair tucked back in a style which might have been fashionable when she entered coldsleep to undertake the long journey to Icarus (although Harry doubted it), she looked every bit as formidable as Poppy Pomfrey had seemed on first sight. So this was Minerva McGonagall, one of the leaders of Icarus colony. 

She was looking back at Harry just as keenly as he was looking at her. "Hello, Mr Potter," she said, "I must apologise for cutting short your... orientation."

Harry knew he wasn't nearly as good at keeping a straight face as Severus; nevertheless, he tried. "No problem."

"You must be wondering why we feel it necessary to go through with this charade at all – why shouldn't everybody know you're a Jumper?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I did wonder. So – are you going to tell me?"

Minerva patted her hair into place and sniffed. "Mr Potter – Harry. The welfare of this colony is of prime importance to me, and to the rest of the Council. Our aim is that Icarus shall ultimately become self-sufficient. Already our farmers, engineers and scientists are making great progress towards this goal."

"Your friend Severus has discovered several useful new drugs which the flora of Icarus can provide," put in Poppy.

Minerva looked as though she were filing something away for future reference, but she continued without comment. "However, we are still dependent, for the moment, on regular supplies brought in by Jumpship to Daedalus Prime. This makes us vulnerable to outside pressure."

"What sort of outside pressure?" Harry asked.

"Certain commercial interests –"

"Like GalactiCorp?" 

Minerva looked suspicious. "What do you know about GalactiCorp?" she asked sharply.

"Only that they originally wanted the mineral rights to this planet, and there was a big legal battle to make them back off."

"Yes, well. Some people think that their appearance of compliance with that ruling is just for show, that they are merely biding their time." Minerva's expression made it clear that she was one of those people.

"I still don't see where I come in," Harry said, although he had a horrible feeling that he did.

"In an emergency, we will always require physical contact with the outside world," Minerva said briskly. "We have reason to suspect that one or more GalactiCorp agents may have infiltrated our colony, but what they don't know – what nobody but a select few know – is that we have our own Jumpship safely stored at Daedalus Prime, and shuttlecraft on Icarus to reach it. What we don't have – or didn't, until now – is somebody capable of traversing a wormhole in the Jumpship."

Harry sighed. "And that would be me."

"And that would indeed, Mr Potter, be you. Do you see now why it is imperative that your Jump abilities are not generally known?"

"Oh yes," Harry said glumly. "I see."

*

"It's a brain-scanner," Poppy said, guiding Harry through the closed ward to the gleaming metal cylinder at the end. On their way they passed between beds surrounded by quietly beeping equipment, hooked up to the comatose forms lying under the covers. They gave Harry the shudders, but apparently this was routine: a batch of future colonists being slowly brought out of the coldsleep in which they'd travelled astronomical distances to get here. The bed at the end of a row, next to the scanner, was empty. Poppy gestured towards it.

"Once we've put you through the brain-scanner, we'll pop you in there, then it'll look as though you're part of this batch." She looked critically at his face. "Though maybe some make-up first, you're looking far too healthy."

Harry grinned. "Why do I need a brain scan?" he asked.

"Routine procedure," Poppy Pomfrey told him, pulling out a sort of padded tray from the base of the machine. "You don't _need_ it, because you haven't actually been in coldsleep, but we'd better have your scan for completeness, in case anyone asks. All the revivees are scanned, just to make sure there hasn't been any cryogenic damage to their brains."

"Is there ever?" Harry asked idly, lying down in the padded tray.

"Well, I'd heard that Severus did find an anomaly in one of the scans –"

"Severus?" Harry said, his attention sharpening.

Poppy smiled at him. "Severus, yes. He analyses the scans on his computer, in that lab of his." She pressed a button and Harry began to slide headfirst towards the machine. "Keep as still as you can. This shouldn't take long."

Lying enclosed by metal, his head bombarded by who knew what, Harry mused that the scan which was being taken of his brain would shortly be on Severus' computer, being examined by his lover. How much would he be able to tell of Harry's thoughts at the time? Nothing, probably, but all the same it amused him to picture himself and Severus naked in each other's arms, rubbing their aroused cocks together until...

A loud beep announced the completion of the scan, Poppy Pomfrey pressed the button, Harry slid out of the machine. 

"You must have been enjoying yourself in there," she commented tartly, "people don't usually come out with a big smile on their face."

*

"Keep still, Harry," Poppy commanded, tilting his chin to one side, "just a bit more whitening should do it."

They'd retreated to the privacy of Poppy's office so she could make Harry up as a wan-faced, sickly-looking coldsleep revivee. He glanced at himself in the mirror she held up, and winced.

"You've made me look like a corpse," he complained, "and what happens about the monitoring and revival equipment around my bed?"

"Fixed," Poppy said briskly, "I got a discreet tech to jigger them. Their readings and so on will seem as expected, but they won't actually be interfacing with you at all."

There was a knock on the door; Poppy glanced at her remote camera display before releasing the lock. Minerva McGonagall came in, holding a message cube.

"I can't stay long, Poppy, I'll just leave this with – good grief, what have you done to the poor boy?"

She stared at Harry in amazement.

"Camouflage," Poppy said irritably, "He is supposed to be a revivee, after all."

"He looks more like a corpse!" said Minerva, abstractedly dropping the message cube onto the table.

"That's what I said," put in Harry.

Ignoring him, Poppy picked up the cube. "What's this – ah, from Severus, to the cryoprep facility on Sirius Station Psi. Oh! Is this about the anomalous –"

"Sssh," interrupted Minerva sharply, nodding significantly towards Harry. "Yes, it is. I thought you might like a look at it before it goes off on the next shuttle run. But be sure to keep it safe."

Poppy bustled over to a sturdy metal cabinet and locked the cube inside. "It'll be safe in here. Nobody can open this except me."

She turned back to Minerva. "Well, if there's nothing else, I must be getting Harry settled in the revival ward."

"Actually, Poppy, while I'm here – do you have any more of that salve for my rheumatism? I've run out."

"There's some in the dispensary, Minerva. Come with me and I'll give you a jar," Poppy said. "I won't be long, Harry."

Chatting confidentially together about their various aches and pains, the two women went out, locking the door behind them.

Left alone in the office, Harry thoughtfully eyed Poppy's secure cabinet. He was intrigued by this message cube from Severus, presumably about the anomalous brain scan which Poppy had mentioned earlier. Anything about Severus intrigued him. Making up his mind, Harry slipped his trusty personal unit out of his pocket. The cube might be locked away, but it wasn't safe from him. His unit held all manner of illegal but extremely useful crackerware, a shady legacy from the more dubious aspects of journalism. It took only a moment to connect wirelessly to the cube through the wall of the cabinet, a few more to crack its security, less to download its files to his unit.

Harry was back in his chair waiting patiently by the time Poppy came back into the room. She regarded him appraisingly, head on one side; finally nodded.

"I think you look convincing enough, Harry. Time to tuck you up in bed."

*

Harry lay half dozing, listening to the beeps of his hoodwinked machines and thinking how boring all this was. He wondered how much longer he could stand it. When Poppy Pomfrey had told him he should be out in a week, along with the rest of the revivees, it hadn't seemed too bad, but a week seemed a whole lot longer from this perspective.

Suddenly his half-closed eyes caught a flicker of movement at the far end of the ward. Was Poppy coming in to check on them? Unusual, at this time of night. His heart lifted in sudden hope. Maybe Severus had snuck in to see him!

Harry tilted his head slightly to get a better view. No, it definitely wasn't Poppy, and it wasn't Severus, either. The pale-faced young man walking purposefully down the ward was a complete stranger to him. As he got closer, Harry could see that the intruder's eyes were staring fixedly, almost maniacally. In his hand he held a big, lethal looking spanner.

And he was heading straight for Harry's bed.

* * * * * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Harry lay rigid beneath the covers, watching the intruder stride purposefully towards him. What could he do? Call for help? Fight back? Both of which would blow his cover as a colonist only just revived from coldsleep, but he had to do _something_. Harry slid his personal unit out of his pocket; if he was fast enough he could set it to broadcast on a frequency which should stun anyone within range – including himself, but it was the best he could come up with at short notice.

Then he realised to his astonishment that he wasn't the stranger's target after all; the young man walked straight past his bed and carried on towards the long metal cylinder of the scanner. Harry saw that in his other hand he held a small case, which he set carefully down on the floor before beginning to dismantle the scanner housing with his spanner. This changed things. Maybe he was just a tech, performing routine maintenance?

Harry frowned. He didn't want to overreact, but there was definitely something suspicious about the man. Stealthily, so as not to attract unwanted attention, he brought his personal unit up above the covers.

*

"Oh my stars! Whatever has been happening here?!"

Poppy Pomfrey's shriek of dismay woke Harry from a erotic dream about Severus. He blinked resentfully at her, trying to cling on to its remembered fragments: being wrapped in his lover's arms, Severus' deep voice murmuring in his ear, excitement building in his cock...

The fading tingle in his groin disappeared completely when he took in Poppy's horrified expression; she stared at the dismantled remains of the machine which had been her pride and joy as if she were unable to believe what had happened to it.

Harry coughed apologetically. "So, I'm guessing he wasn't a maintenance tech, after all?"

Poppy turned to look at him. "You saw what happened?"

"Yeah, I nearly tried to stop him, but I wasn't sure if he was authorised..." Harry's voice trailed off. Now he felt distinctly guilty. He stretched his hand out towards Poppy. "Shit, I'm sorry. I _knew_ something was wrong. I should have –"

"No," Poppy interrupted, "it is vital that –" she glanced around the rest of the ward. A few of the revivees were starting to stir, the beeps of their machines quickening in response. Poppy hastily drew the curtains around Harry's bed, lowered her voice. "Nobody must know you're a –" she mouthed _Jumper_ , "– but this damage is appalling. Cover cracked, half the circuit boards missing –"

"He took them with him," Harry said quietly, interrupting in his turn. "I saw him put them in his case and walk off with them. I thought maybe he was taking them to a workshop for routine checks or something."

Poppy shook her head vehemently. "No. This is theft. Who was he? Can you describe him?"

"I can do better than that," Harry said, pulling out his personal unit and touching the screen into life. "I took his picture, look." And he held the unit out for Poppy to see.

"I might have known," she said, grimly. "He's the one I was telling you about, the one with the anomalous brain scan. Quirinus Quirrell."

*

Severus paced the floor of his laboratory; irritable, uncertain, unable to settle on any one task for very long. The scratching at the door which announced a visit from Remus Lupin was almost welcome; Severus' bark of "Come in if you _must_ ," half-hearted at best.

Remus sidled apologetically into the lab, took in Severus' gloomy expression and said sympathetically, "Never mind, he'll be out in another week. Two, tops."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus said.

Remus laughed. "Come on, you don't fool me. You're suffering Harry withdrawal."

Severus' sallow skin became faintly tinged with red at the image Remus' phrase conjured up. "Nonsense," he said.

"I know you got his brain scan in the last batch," Remus persisted annoyingly. He made a show of looking around the walls of the lab. "Surprised you haven't got a hardcopy of it stuck up here. Or is it in your private quarters?"

Severus huffed. He wasn't going to admit to Remus how long he'd spent looking at Harry's brain scan, fantasising about what might have been going through the young man's mind at the time.

"Anyway," Remus continued, his face turning serious, "looks like that'll be the last batch of scans you'll get for a while."

Severus swung round to look at him. "What do you mean?"

Remus told him about the break-in at the medical facility and Quirrell's attack on the scanner. Severus swore.

"Have you arrested him?" he demanded.

"He's disappeared again," Remus said. "We're looking for him, believe me."

"Is the scanner repairable?"

"Well, most of its circuits are missing, according to Poppy. I think we'd better assume we aren't going to get them back, and send it off to Sirius Station Psi for a recon job."

"Yes," Severus mused, "and my message cube can go at the same time. It really is urgent, in view of these developments. I'll have a word with Minerva; she'll have to request an emergency run now." He eyed Remus thoughtfully. "And you've absolutely no idea where Quirrell might be hiding?"

"No," Remus said uneasily, "but I've a feeling there's something I ought to remember..."

Severus glanced at the lunar calendar taped to the wall. "Funny, your memory always seems impaired just before your time of the month. I wonder if it's a side effect of the werewolf gene."

Remus glared at him.

*

Harry woke with a start and a sickening feeling of _déjà vu_. Quirinus Quirrell was standing at the end of the ward, just a metre from Harry's bed, spanner in one hand, case in the other. Just like the other night. Could he be dreaming?

Then Harry saw the bewildered fury on Quirrell's face as he stared at the empty space where the scanner had been. Unlike Harry, who'd been informed by Poppy Pomfrey, Quirrell was obviously unaware that the scanner was now crated up in the medical facility's docking bay, awaiting collection by the next shuttle.

Muttering under his breath, Quirrell quickly left the ward by the nearest exit. Harry leapt out of bed. He wasn't going to let the intruder get away this time. With some idea of maintaining his cover, he swiftly drew the curtains around his bed, screening it from the rest of the ward, and pulled on his jeans and shoes from his locker. Then he slipped between a gap in the curtains and set off in pursuit.

He'd not taken long, but Quirrell was already out of sight. Harry paused for a moment, uncertain. Perhaps he'd better alert Poppy Pomfrey; she'd know what to do.

But Poppy's office was locked, shuttered, obviously empty. No help there. _Think, Harry_ , he told himself. Where would Quirrell have gone? Maybe he'd guessed what had been done with the scanner, in which case...

Lips set in a grim line, Harry followed the signs to the docking bay.

*

Quirinus Quirrell had just finished prising open the packing case lid when Harry sidled cautiously into the docking bay. So he'd been right! Without stopping to think, he launched himself at the young man's back.

But, with lightning reactions which took Harry by surprise, Quirrell rolled from underneath him and came up, stunner in hand; a ray lanced out, striking Harry in the chest and rendering him instantly immobile. He fell heavily to the ground, still able to hear, see and think, but with his limbs totally petrified.

Quirrell contemptuously kicked him out of the way and returned to the open packing case. Working quickly, he attached half-a-dozen small antigravity devices to the scanner and levitated it out of the crate; it hovered weirdly in the air beside him, antigravs whining. 

"I'll take the whole fucking thing, this time," he muttered. "Hello, what's this?" And, stooping over the crate, he picked up the small message cube which had been tucked into one corner. Quirrell read its label, his lip lifting in a sneer. "So, my old friend Severus Snape is writing to his boyfriend, is he? And care of cryoprep central, too. I can guess what _this_ is about."

He lifted his stunner, carefully adjusted its settings, and fired a burst of radiation into the cube.

"I don't think Regulus Black will make much of that," he sniggered, tossing the cube back into the packing case, "but he's welcome to try."

Quirrell picked the lid up off the floor and began to lower it back onto the crate, then paused. "Fuck," he muttered, "I'll need to put _something_ in here, or they'll guess it's empty from the weight."

His eye travelled round the docking bay and came to rest on Harry, lying immobilised on the floor, glaring up at him. Quirrell gave a nasty laugh. "You'll do, my friend," he said, and hoisted Harry into the crate; he was obviously stronger than he looked. "Good way of getting rid of you – you'll be a drooling idiot by the time you come out of the wormhole. Nobody will believe a word of your ravings." He fitted the lid into place. "If you're even still alive."

As Harry heard fastening bolts being fired into the lid, he could only thank his lucky stars that Quirrell had no idea that he was a Jumper.

*

Severus hurled a beaker across his laboratory, taking bleak delight in the ensuing crash and shower of glass shards falling to the floor. Damn it all, he'd _known_ what the little fucker was like, but he'd let him get under his skin anyway. It was his own fault: he'd had ample warning – all those _hot guys_ Potter had babbled about under the influence of the Verity flowers, Poppy telling him that the boy was feeling bored shut up in the cryorevival ward. Of course he was bored. He'd had his thrill – crossed the galaxy, a mere stroll in the park for a Jumper – taken his fill of _dirtball sex_ as he no doubt thought of it – and was off to pastures new without a second thought.

A glass retort went the same way as the beaker; Severus howled with rage and frustration. He was just reaching for a rack of test tubes when he felt his arm being taken in a firm, restraining grip.

"That's quite enough, Severus. We can't afford to lose any more lab equipment."

Severus glared at his assailant. Trust the werewolf to turn up when he wasn't wanted.

"He's offplanet, isn't he?" he ground out.

"Yes," Remus said reluctantly, "I'm afraid he must be. The observatory telespectroscope picked up his trace heading for Daedalus Prime. He must have been onboard the shuttle, but I don't know how. It wasn't a scheduled passenger run."

Severus laughed bitterly. "I'm sure he found it easy enough to seduce the pilot into taking him – in every sense."

Remus shook Severus' arm gently. "You're misjudging him, Severus. I don't know what happened, but I do know Harry wouldn't willingly hurt you."

Severus jerked his arm free. "You know nothing," he spat, " _nothing_. And please don't mention that little tart's name to me. I never want to hear it again."

* * * * * *

**Chapter Twelve**

The effects of Quirrell's stunner beam had worn off by the time the Jumpship emerged from the wormhole, but Harry wasn't trying to get out of the crate, nor was he shouting for help. It had been his worst Jump experience yet. This time, he hadn't just heard his mother screaming; he'd also heard two men's voices, telling her to stand aside, that Harry was the one they wanted to kill. And one of the voices he recognised. He had no doubt at all that he was reliving something that had happened when he was a helpless baby, when his mother had been murdered. Slow tears ran down Harry's cheeks as he lay curled up in the darkness.

The voice he recognised had been Severus Snape's.

*

Severus locked up his laboratory and headed for the security office, where Remus had set up a temporary control post; he couldn't concentrate on any of his experiments, so he might as well join in the search for Quirinus Quirrell. Remus issued him with a paramilitary radio keyed to the colony's secure net.

"Better safe than sorry," Remus said as he handed it over, "we don't know what we're dealing with here." He gave Severus a quizzical look. "You do remember how to use these, don't you?"

"Of course," snapped Severus, tucking the radio away in his jacket pocket. "Which area do you want me to search?"

Remus thoughtfully rubbed his chin as he scrutinised the big map pinned up on the wall. "We-ell. We don't know if he has transport, but we can't rule anything out, especially if he might be in cahoots with GalactiCorp. Maybe you could take your landskimmer, go check out the region around the cave."

Severus nodded. "I'll check on the forcefield generator while I'm there," he said. "Save you having to do it today." 

A slightly guilty expression on Remus' face made him pause. "You _have_ been carrying out the daily checks, haven't you?" 

The guilty expression intensified. "I... I can't quite remember," Remus admitted. "I may have skipped a couple."

Severus gave him a scathing look. "You should delegate to somebody else when the moon's approaching full."

Remus scowled at him. "It's nothing to do with that. My memory's fine while I'm in the settlement. I think –" He paused.

"What?" Severus asked impatiently.

"It may seem weird," Remus said, "but I think the mineral deposit in that cave may be affecting my memory. We did suspect it had some psychotropic qualities, if you remember. That's why we needed a mineralogist."

"Yes, and look how well _that_ worked out," Severus jeered. "We got a fraud."

"We got a Jumper," Remus corrected. "And we need one of those even more than we need a mineralogist."

"Except you appear to have lost him. And good riddance."

"You shouldn't be so hard on Harry, Severus. From what little he told me, he crossed the galaxy to meet you."

"So?" Severus retorted, his expression closed. "As you said, he's a Jumper. Crossing the galaxy is like a stroll in the park for them."

"Just shows how little you know. Why do you think I had to indent for chocolate? I'll tell you. Because I happen to know about Jump trauma. There's a wide spectrum, ranging from going completely barking mad, to the lucky few who're comparatively unscathed and usually become Jumpship pilots. Harry falls somewhere in the middle. He doesn't go insane, but every time he goes through a wormhole, he relives horrors from his past. It's certainly no _stroll in the park_ , for him."

"Horrors from his past?" Severus sounded sceptical. "What horrors can he possibly remember?"

Remus fixed Severus with a hard stare. "You tell me, Severus. You were there. All I know is, he told me he hears his mother scream."

*

"Dr Black! You need to come and see this, sir!" The voice over the intercom was shocked, urgent.

Regulus Black swept back a lock of hair and sighed. You couldn't get the staff nowadays. "Where are you, Connor?"

"Uh – what? Oh. In the docking bay. Sir –"

"On my way."

In spite of the panic in his assistant's voice, Regulus took his time descending to the docking area. It was probably nothing major; Connor was always going off half-cocked. He was a good fuck, though. Regulus was smiling when he entered Goods Inward.

"Thank God you're here!"

Connor was standing, wild-eyed, over an opened crate. 

Only mildly interested, Regulus strolled towards him. "Ah, is that the returned bioscanner from Icarus Colony? I had a subspace call from Minerva McGonagall about that, garbled as usual. They really should do something about wormhole radio trans–"

Regulus broke off; he was now close enough to see what was inside the crate. He stared, unable to believe his eyes.

"James?" he said, his voice cracking. He leant closer. It _looked_ like James Potter. But that was impossible. James was over twenty years dead. Or had he, somehow, survived – hidden away in cryogenic stasis?

"It was supposed to be the bioscanner!" Connor gabbled. "It's labelled from Icarus, look!"

That meant it had to have come through the wormhole. "Gods..." groaned Regulus. So this pathetic figure lying hunched like a foetus, knees under his chin, would be hopelessly insane. What could possibly have happened? _Was_ it James Potter?

He must have said this last aloud, because the stranger immediately lifted his head and stared at him. "James was my father," he said. "I'm Harry."

Regulus stared back, into eyes which, though sad, showed no hint of madness. Green eyes. Like Lily's.

*

Severus frowned over the latest log entries displayed on the front panel of the forcefield generator, tapped his query in again. The result was the same. Somebody had deactivated the forcefield on two separate occasions recently, when as far as he knew there'd been no good reason to do so. Unless Remus...? He'd better contact the colony, ask him. He pushed to the back of his mind his last meeting with Remus, walling around with mental defences what the werewolf had revealed about Harry. About Lily. He wasn't ready to consider the implications of that.

It took several attempts to get his radio unit connected to the secure net – in spite of what he'd told Remus, he only had a hazy recollection of its operation from the lectures every new colonist had to attend – but Severus managed it in the end. His protective wall threatened to crumble when he saw the identifier which Remus had assigned to his radio: Silver Doe. His nickname for Lily, back in the old days. Was Remus deliberately needling him?

Severus took several deep breaths, pushed _all that_ to the back of his mind again, started the calling procedure which should connect him to Remus' radio for an encrypted one-to-one conversation. He didn't want the rest of the net hearing this.

When Remus eventually came on, Severus spoke in clipped tones. "Snape here," – none of that _Silver Doe_ nonsense – "I have a question for you."

Silence. Severus cursed, flipped the radio switch to receive. Trust the colony to buy a bunch of secondhand, outdated communications devices. Pennypinching idiots.

A blast of static, then Remus' voice, faint but audible. "– the problem? Over."

Severus toggled the switch. "Forcefield generator, Remus. The logs indicate the field's been switched off twice recently. The last time just a few hours ago. Did you authorise it?" He paused. "Over." And flicked the switch.

This time Remus' voice was louder. "Nobody but you and me should know the access code. And I've been in the settlement coordinating this search since Quirrell disappeared; it certainly wasn't me."

*

Regulus Black studied the young man sitting opposite him. It was uncanny how like James he was – apart, of course, from his eyes.

"So, Harry. Perhaps you could explain how you came to be in a packing case from Icarus colony, instead of their damaged bioscanner."

Harry leaned back, took a deep breath. "It's a long story..."

He gave Regulus a carefully-edited account of recent events, leaving out his main reason for being on Icarus in the first place. He couldn't manage to avoid mentioning Severus Snape altogether, however, and maybe his editing hadn't been as careful as he'd thought, because Regulus' first question was, "So, is Severus as much of a bastard as ever?"

Harry found himself choking back tears. He told himself fiercely that Severus – Snape – that _murderer_ meant nothing to him now. Composing himself with difficulty, he pulled his personal unit out of his pocket and flicked it on.

"Here. A recent photo of him."

Regulus took the unit and regarded the tiny screen thoughtfully. "Ah, the paradoxes of coldsleep," he sighed, shaking his head.

Harry raised his eyebrows in question.

"Intellectually, I knew that Severus is now twenty years younger than me," Regulus explained, "but I can't stop thinking of him as my senior."

Remembering something Quirrell had said, Harry blurted out, "Were you his boyfriend?" 

Regulus gave him a keen look, then, unexpectedly, smiled. "Briefly," he said. "Did he tell you that?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It was Quirrell, the guy I told you about. The one who sabotaged the scanner and shoved me into the crate. Here –" He took his personal unit back from Regulus, scrolled through a few entries, "– this is him."

Regulus studied the pictures of Quirrell dismantling the scanner in the cryorevival ward of Icarus' medical facility. "Hmmm. I don't recognise him."

"He's a fairly recent colonist. You'd have prepared him for coldsleep – what – ten, maybe twenty years ago?"

Regulus laughed. "I don't remember them all, Harry. Maybe if I had his brain scan, I could compare it with our records. Professor McGonagall intimated that his scan had some strange features, and Severus was sending me a copy, but..."

He reached into a drawer, picked up a message cube and tossed it onto the top of the desk.

"Garbage."

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, remembering. "Quirrell fried it. I doubt you'll be able to retrieve any data from that." He felt himself going red. "Um, I might happen to have a copy, though. Do you have anything I can upload to?" 

Regulus regarded him thoughtfully, but didn't question why Harry had an – undoubtedly unauthorised – copy of a private message cube.

"Here," he said, swinging the computer on his desk round to face Harry. "Standard file protocol."

Soon they were staring at an image of Quirinus Quirrell's brain scan, taken shortly after his arrival on Icarus colony. 

"Yes, I see what they meant," Regulus said slowly. "Odd. Hmmm, I'll search our database for the original scan. We always take one when would-be colonists enter the facility."

He split the screen, and moments later the two patterns were side-by-side. "It certainly looks as though a second mental pattern has been imposed on his original one. Let's see..."

He entered commands, removing Quirrell's own brain pattern from the superimposed picture, and initiating a search of the colony's extensive database for a match to what remained.

"No. No, it's not possible." Regulus had gone deathly pale.

Startled, Harry leaned over to see the name blinking in the _Pattern recognised_ box on the screen. It meant nothing to him.

"Who's Thomas Riddle?"

* * * * * *

****

Chapter Thirteen

Severus stared at the front panel of the generator; the last line of its log blinked unhelpfully back at him. _Somebody_ had taken down the forcefield, and presumably entered the cave, at least twice during the last few days. And Remus, despite his denial, was the most likely suspect. Especially given the memory problems he'd been exhibiting recently.

But.

Quirinus Quirrell was out there somewhere. He shouldn't know the control codes for the generator, and most likely he didn't. All the same, Severus had to check that all was well within the cave. Its mineral deposit would be an irresistible lure to any GalactiCorp agent, whether Quirrell were involved or not.

His mind made up, Severus swiftly tapped in the control sequence which deactivated the forcefield. The low hum of the generator died, the warning light on the front panel turned from red to green. Cautiously, Severus entered the cave.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected to find: evidence of mining, perhaps – pieces missing from the large mineral outcrop at the back of the cave. He certainly hadn't expected to see what looked like a scene from a cheap vid thriller, a mad scientist's lashup. Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, Severus went to investigate.

Close to, the setup looked even more bizarre. A bird's nest of wires sprouted from the outcrop, anchored to it by metal probes driven every so often into the regular black crystals of the mineral. Some of the wiring disappeared into a maze of electronic equipment, strung together apparently at random. Severus flashed his torch on a familiar-looking device.

It was one of the parts Quirrell had stolen from the medical facility; the core of the brain scanner.

*

"Thomas Riddle," Regulus whispered. "He's supposed to be dead."

"But who _is_ he?" Harry asked impatiently.

Regulus was silent, his eyes dark and haunted, as if viewing scenes of terror invisible to Harry. At last he said quietly, almost to himself, "He promised us the galaxy – no, the universe. And we believed him."

"We?"

"His followers. Me."

"And Snape?"

Regulus seemed to come back from a long way off, his eyes focussing on Harry. "Did he tell you that?" he asked sharply.

Harry shook his head. He had difficulty breathing; he swallowed hard. "When I go through a wormhole," he choked out, "I...hear things. This last Jump –"

"Yes?" Regulus prompted.

"I heard Snape – and someone else. Murdering my mum."

"No. No, no, no." Regulus was shaking his head vigorously. "Severus would never have harmed Lily. It was because he felt so guilty over inadvertently betraying her that he turned against Riddle, became a double agent."

The only concept which Harry took from this was _betrayal_.

" _How_ did he betray her?"

Regulus regarded Harry with pity. "I'm not sure you'd understand."

"Try me," Harry gritted out.

"Well..." The faraway look was back in Regulus' eyes. "I'd begun to have second thoughts by then. Some of the things Riddle did to gain power... anyway. Severus was still one of his most loyal followers; Riddle had set him up in a research lab, all the funds he wanted. Then it happened."

Harry was on the edge of his seat. "What happened?"

"What do you know about the theory of wormhole temporal resonance?" Regulus asked.

"Bugger all," Harry said. "Suppose you explain." He wasn't going to let Regulus get away with his _you wouldn't understand_ shit.

"Well, Severus carried out all kinds of research for Tom Riddle. One had to do with the technology of using a wormhole as a conduit for radio waves. Of course, Riddle's interest was in intercepting and deciphering encrypted transmissions – spying, in other words. Now, I don't know if you're familiar with wormhole radio technology, but it has always been subject to glitches and anomalies."

Harry nodded, remembering his days as a newsjock. "Yeah. We used to have problems with video feeds from colony planets like Icarus; often as not we'd lose 'em for no apparent reason. The wormhole just seemed to –" he shrugged, "– swallow 'em up."

"Precisely!" said Regulus. "Well, in the course of Severus' research, he discovered something odd. Occasionally, it appeared to be possible to receive a transmission before it had actually been sent."

Harry frowned, trying to get to grips with this. "So, when our video feeds vanished in the wormhole conduit – what, they were actually delivered, but _in the past_?"

Regulus nodded. "Wormholes do strange things with time."

Harry shivered. "True."

"Anyway, one day Severus picked up a transmission – apparently originating in the future – which he thought threatened Riddle's very existence. I never heard the full details, it was classified. But he told Riddle about it immediately."

Regulus pushed back a lock of hair. "You have to realise, Harry," he said urgently, "Severus had no way of knowing the interpretation Riddle would put on that message."

Harry felt an icy sensation in the pit of his stomach. "What interpretation did he put on it?"

Again the pitying look in Regulus' eyes. "He believed that the son of James and Lily Potter – you – would grow up to be a threat to him, would kill him. So... he took steps."

The icy sensation spread to Harry's heart. "What happened?" he whispered.

"I don't know exactly," Regulus admitted. "All I know is, there was an – incident – on Gamma Chi, where your parents lived. And when it was all over, you were missing, Severus was in hiding, and your parents were both dead. And so was Tom Riddle – or so everybody thought."

He thumped his fist on the desk. "Damnit, I saw the vids of his body! But somehow, he must have found a way to – I don't know –" he shrugged helplessly, "– inhabit somebody else, share their body. Like a parasite."

And he pointed to the brain scan pictures on his screen.

Harry gaped at him, momentarily speechless. First the news that he and his family had been targeted by a madman because of some prophetic wormhole transmission, now this. At last he managed to speak.

"You mean the man everyone thinks is Quirrell is really this dangerous Riddle character?"

It sounded completely ludicrous.

Regulus got to his feet. "Stay here, Harry. I need to investigate this." And he swept out of his office, faster than Harry had seen him move before.

Harry sat staring at the scans on Regulus' computer screen, lost in thought. _Was_ Snape a murderer, complicit in the death of Harry's parents? Or had he, as Regulus claimed, tried to save them – or, at least, Harry's mother? Regulus seemed certain that Snape had become a double agent, working against his former boss. Did Riddle know that? 

He tried to remember what Quirrell had said as he fired a burst of hard radiation into Snape's message cube. Something about Snape's old boyfriend, Regulus Black. Something about guessing what the message would be. If Riddle really _did_ inhabit a part of Quirrell's brain, he must already be suspicious of Snape. Which meant that Snape was in danger.

_It's not just him, though,_ Harry thought. _If Regulus Black's right about this, the whole of Icarus colony is in danger._

The door opened and Regulus came back into the room, his face strained. "I've checked our records thoroughly. It appears that a tech called Pettigrew prepared Quirrell for coldsleep. He was later arrested on suspicion of being one of Thomas Riddle's henchmen, but committed suicide before he could be questioned."

He gripped Harry's shoulder, hard.

"I've no doubt he managed to imprint Riddle's personality onto Quirrell's during the cryoprep process. Now there's a dangerous meglomaniac loose on Icarus. He may even have his agents already in place there."

Harry remembered Professor McGonagall's concerns. "Is he something to do with GalactiCorp?"

"I always suspected so," Regulus said. "Harry, it's imperative you go back to Icarus at once and warn them. I can arrange for you to make the journey as quickly as possible, but I'm afraid that'll involve several Jumps, not just the one. Are you up for that?"

Harry nodded grimly. 

"I'll have to be."

*

Severus stepped back from the bizarre collection of electronics surrounding the mineral outcrop, pulling his radio unit out of his pocket and starting the callup sequence to contact Remus' headquarters back in the settlement. But before the radio connection was complete, he was stopped by an icy voice from behind him.

"Drop that. Now."

He turned to see Quirinus Quirrell standing in the entrance to the cave, stunner in hand. At least, Severus _hoped_ it was just a stunner: it looked a great deal more... menacing... than the standard security guard issue. He dropped the radio.

"Kick it over here."

Severus obeyed, and Quirrell crushed it under his boot, eyes fixed on Severus all the time.

"You don't recognise me, do you?"

Severus frowned. The voice's timbre sounded a faint, ominous chord in his memory, but...

"You mean you aren't Quirrell?"

The voice's owner laughed, a high, chilling sound. "Oh, he's here too. Do you want to speak to him?" 

Severus saw the eyes change, losing their fixed intensity, until they were more... normal. The voice changed as well, becoming softer, more hesitant. "H-hello, Severus. I'm afraid we've given you a great deal of t-trouble."

"We?"

"My m-master and I. I agreed to let him share my b-body. One of his m-men on Psi Station p-performed the p-procedure as I was being p-p-prepared for coldsleep."

Severus' mind immediately went back to that anomalous brain scan, his worst suspicions confirmed. "Your master. Who is he?"

The face confronting him changed again, its expression colder, harder, more certain. 

"I think you know, Severus."

Severus momentarily closed his eyes. "Tom Riddle."

The cold voice was now a menacing hiss. "You didn't think you'd see me again, did you, Severus? You thought I was dead." Fury flared in those reptilian eyes. "Well, see what I've been reduced to – this half life, sharing another's body. But all that is about to change."

He pointed to the rat's nest of wires erupting from the black crystals behind Severus. 

"You weren't my only researcher, Severus. You didn't know all the discoveries I made. This mineral, for one. Its special properties will allow me to live a full life again – and again – and again."

His laughter was chilling.

"You see, this memory mineral is capable of transferring a person's complete personality. I shall use it to suck out my... donor's. Then take over their body."

Severus took an involuntary step forward, fists clenched. Riddle raised his stunner, fired. Severus slowly toppled backwards, till he lay, immobilised but aware, at Riddle's feet.

"You can assist me one last time, Severus," Riddle hissed. "I need a subject to experiment upon, to ensure that the memory mineral does indeed wipe out his memory, his personality, his very self. I think you owe me that after your double-dealing, don't you?"

He planted his foot on Severus' chest, pressed down hard. 

"I won't be transferring my personality into your ugly, ageing body, though. It can remain empty, a zombie, a warning to anyone who opposes me. I shall find a young, handsome, _strong_ body to house me."

Riddle dragged Severus to the side of the cave, lashed his wrists together with surplus wire, hobbled his ankles to a spur of rock.

"You can wait here till I get back; I need one last component to complete my transference mechanism. Luckily, your pet werewolf is unusually susceptible to suggestion at this phase of the moon. He'll help me get what I need." Riddle pulled a black crystal from his pocket, waved it at Severus. "And he won't even remember doing it."

*

The _several Jumps_ turned out to be three: three separate wormholes, three assaults on his sanity.

In the first, Harry lay frozen as the walls of the Jumpship seemed to dissolve around him, leaving him naked to the unimaginable vastness of the universe, to the impenetrable depths of time. A sense of utter desolation filled, fills, will fill him forever.

A brief respite as they come out of Jump; Harry fumbles in the pack Regulus has given him, crams his mouth with chocolate.

Then, the second Jump. 

Large, warm hands are holding him carefully. Above him, a hooked nose, dark eyes, tears running down a sallow face. He's laid down, the hands withdraw. He begins to cry.

_Forgive me. It's the only way._

He's alone: a baby, a man, every stage in between. 

As they penetrate ever deeper into the wormhole, more barriers dissolve: between past and future, between worlds, between possibilities. He sees a strange woman, dealing cards on a table. He sees an old man, falling from a tower. He sees a snake.

As they come out of Jump his throat is hoarse from screaming.

Another respite as they make the short flight to the third wormhole, the one which will disgorge them at Daedalus Prime. Harry gropes weakly for more chocolate. His brain is buzzing as he tries to anchor himself in time, make sense of what he's experienced. 

He must have just relived the Jump he made as a baby, the one which took him away from the danger of Riddle's fanatical followers. Could this, paradoxically, have caused the resonance Regulus talked about, creating the conditions to send a message back in time – the message which caused Thomas Riddle to target him in the first place? 

Harry has just time to think _let this not be the time I go mad_ before he's swept into the mind-altering chaos of the final Jump.

He clutches the image of a tear-streaked face close, like a talisman.

* * * * * *

****

Chapter Fourteen

Whatever the reason – a shorter wormhole, his innate toughness, the vision of Severus' tear-stained face as he stowed baby Harry away for his first ever Jump – Harry emerged unscathed at Daedalus Prime. He was immediately dragged, protesting, into a conference with the people he privately dubbed McGonagall's Army.

"I must get down to the surface AT ONCE," he said angrily. 

"Calm down, Harry," the Jumpship pilot told him soothingly. "You need a couple hours, recover from the Jumps. Three in a row, bloody hell, even I wouldn't risk that."

So Harry sat sucking chocolate and taking cautious sips of a remedy the pilot swore by, while around him a debate about tactics went on. He'd handed over the private message cube Regulus had recorded, giving details of Tom Riddle's past, his possible connections to GalactiCorp, the spooky brain sharing thing; this was played back and discussed exhaustively, with the occasional question shot at Harry for clarification.

At last, some sort of consensus seemed to have been reached, and Harry was given back Regulus' message cube to take to Professor McGonagall herself. He was also kitted out with the latest secure comms device, a tiny thing which fitted snugly into his top pocket. Fuming with impatience, Harry strapped himself into the copilot's seat of a small private shuttlecraft, and – _finally_ – was on his way to Icarus colony.

As the small craft descended and the colonists' settlement grew ever larger beneath them, Harry caught sight of a landskimmer tucked away behind the medical facility, in the very spot where Severus had dropped him, what seemed like a lifetime ago. And, surely, it was Severus' own landskimmer? He recognised the dents and scratches along its sides, legacy of close calls in the mountains.

The pilot set them down behind a small hill, out of sight of the settlement, and unshipped a stripped-down two-man flyer from the back of the shuttlecraft. 

"Drop me off round the back of the medical facility," Harry told him. "And you go and find Professor McGonagall. Here –" he handed over the message cube, "– give her this. _Privately_. There's no time to lose; I'll contact Severus Snape, he's the only other person I know we can trust. Oh, and maybe Remus Lupin."

The pilot nodded. "Give me your comm unit a minute," he said, and when Harry had handed over the miniature device he adjusted its settings, saying, "There, that'll keep your channel permanently open."

Harry went red, thinking of Severus, and butt plugs.

The pilot – obviously straight – had missed his own _double entendre_. Handing the unit back to Harry, he said, "This way I'll hear at once if you hit any problems; its mike is sensitive enough to pick up ordinary conversations even while it's in your pocket." He laughed. "Prof McG would skin me alive if I let anything happen to her pet Jumper."

*

The effects of the immobilising stunner beam had finally worn off, leaving Severus with a severe case of cramp he could do nothing to alleviate. He struggled against the twisted wires which tied his wrists together, and the thicker cable which tethered him to a spur of rock, but without success. If he couldn't free himself before Riddle/Quirrell got back, his future looked bleak; he was sure Riddle wouldn't hesitate to carry out his threat to obliterate Severus' personality.

Yes, his future looked bleak, but there was one bright spot. From something Riddle had let drop as he left the cave, it was evident that Harry had surprised him removing the remains of the scanner from its crate, had come off worst in a struggle, and been packed away in its place. Riddle had no idea who Harry was, and, unlike Severus, didn't know he was a Jumper: he thought the young man would be driven hopelessly insane in the wormhole, like so many before him.

Desperate as his situation was, Severus found himself smiling as he sawed the wires around his wrists against a sharp edge of rock. Harry hadn't left the planet of his own accord, after all.

*

Harry jogged towards Severus' landskimmer, disappointed to see it empty. Maybe Severus was inside the medical facility. As Harry approached the exit, the doors opened and a couple of men came out, carrying a large box, evidently heavy, between them. One was Remus Lupin: Harry was just about to call out to him when he recognised the other man. It was Quirinus Quirrell.

Shocked, Harry ducked underneath the landskimmer and hid himself between its struts, hardly daring to breathe. He listened hard, but could only catch odd fragments of their conversation. What he did manage to overhear was chilling: Severus was in deadly peril, and whatever was in the box was involved somehow. Above him, he heard the rear compartment of the landskimmer being opened and various bangs and scuffling noises; evidently the box was being stowed inside. A moment later, Quirrell's and Remus' feet came into view again, round the front of the landskimmer. And, crucially, they hadn't yet closed the luggage compartment.

Without giving himself time to think, Harry slid out from under the landskimmer, vaulted into the back, and wriggled out of sight. Not a moment too soon, as he'd barely settled himself before the compartment was sealed and the landskimmer took off with a vicious whine.

The flight was long and bumpy with air turbulence, but at last it came to an end. Harry, crouched uncomfortably in the luggage compartment, felt the jolt as they set down, heard the cockpit door slide open. Cautiously, he raised his head and peered between the seats. Through the plexishield of the cockpit he saw a scene he recognised – the entrance to the cave in the hills above Remus' cabin. Quirrell was bending over the forcefield generator, intent on entering the correct shutdown sequence. There was no sign of Remus Lupin; Quirrell must have left him back in the settlement.

Harry took his chance, raised the lid of the luggage compartment enough to let him slide out, closed it quietly behind him. By the time Quirrell had finished deactivating the forcefield, Harry was out of sight underneath the landskimmer.

It took Quirrell a lot of effort and bad language to unload his box and manoeuvre it single-handedly towards the cave. When Harry judged he was out of earshot, he took the tiny comms device out of his pocket and whispered into it, giving a quick summary of what had been happening. "So don't trust Remus Lupin," he finished, "Better lock him up. And send people you _can_ trust to the cave, to arrest Quirrell – Riddle – whoever. I'm going in after him, see if I can keep him talking."

The comms unit buzzed in his hand; the shuttlecraft pilot said, "NO! It's too dangerous!"

Muffled noise, then Professor McGonagall's voice: "Harry, stay where you are. We'll be there within the hour."

"No," Harry said firmly, "that may be too late." 

He dropped the comms device onto the ground. He didn't want Riddle realising that he had backup, and he certainly didn't want to listen to any more attempts to change his mind.

Severus had saved his life a quarter of a century ago, and if at all possible, he intended to save Severus now.

*

Reptilian eyes glared at Harry over the barrel of a blaster: there was no doubt who was in possession of the dual personality now.

"Don't shoot, Thomas Riddle," Harry said calmly, "or you'll never find out what I know."

A momentary doubt crossed the arrogant face, the blaster was slightly lowered. "Who the hell are you?"

"Don't you recognise me – the makeweight you packed away in the scanner crate? Or was Quirrell in charge at the time?"

The blaster was raised again, threateningly. "That's impossible. You'd be a raving madman by now."

"Ah, but I'm a Jumper." Harry grinned. "That's how I survived your first attack, all those years ago. Take a close look at my face. Remind you of anyone?"

A bored voice came from the ground behind Riddle, where Severus was tethered to a rocky spur.

"You can't expect him to remember you, Harry. You were only a baby at the time."

"Yeah," Harry said, secretly pleased that Severus no longer saw him as a copy of James, "but I'm told I'm very like my father. Only with my mother's eyes. Remember the Potters, Riddle?"

A half-suppressed oath and a look of shocked animosity told Harry his shot had hit home, but also alerted him to his danger.

"Don't shoot," he said again, "or you'll never know the mysterious secrets of the wormholes."

A cough from Severus. _Don't overdo it_ his look plainly told Harry, then he said aloud, "Hadn't you better get on with sucking out my soul?"

Riddle laughed harshly. "Oh, I doubt you possess such a thing, Severus." His glare at Harry turned speculative. "I suppose you know, Potter, that Severus here is responsible for the death of your parents?"

Harry closed his mind to the look of despair which came into Severus' dark eyes at this, and said tonelessly, "I'd heard, yes."

"Oh? Who told you?" Riddle sounded genuinely curious. "Not Severus himself, surely."

"No... it was Regulus Black, actually," Harry said. "You made sure I was delivered to him, remember? He was the one who identified you – _Riddle_."

"But how could he possibly –"

"You thought you'd destroyed that message cube, the one with your – Quirrell's – scan," continued Harry, "but Regulus saw it anyway, identified your brain pattern."

"So he told you about the night your parents died," said Riddle, remorselessly returning to his original thought. "He told you that Severus betrayed your family to me."

"He also told me that Severus didn't know how you'd interpret that, um, message from the future."

Riddle regarded Harry thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to wonder if I misinterpreted it, myself. Maybe you can be of use to me."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"A Jumper..." Riddle murmured. 

Then his eyes hardened once more. "Or maybe it's just your _body_ which could be useful. Muscle memory, you know..."

"No!" Severus interjected violently. "The Jumper ability is an attribute of the mind, not the body. You go through Jump in Harry's body, you'll still go mad." He paused, then added sarcastically, "Even _more_ mad, that is."

Riddle gave him a vicious kick. "That's enough from you. Maybe it's time to silence you permanently." He bent to open the box he'd brought into the cave with him, then paused, struck by a sudden thought. "I think I'll reactivate that forcefield first. We wouldn't want to be disturbed, would we?"

He gestured with the blaster for Harry to kneel down, and when he'd obeyed, Riddle tethered him to another spur of rock, near Severus but unable to touch him.

"I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about," he said, with a cruel smile, and left the cave.

"What did he mean, silence you permanently?" Harry asked urgently, as soon as Riddle had gone outside.

Severus explained, adding, "It's a bizarre idea, but it may well work."

"We've got to stop him! Keep him talking for longer. Backup's on its way."

"Why would you care what happens to me?" Severus asked. 

The desolate look on his face reflected Harry's vision of him in the wormhole, as he stowed baby Harry away hoping for his safety. Harry reminded himself that, to Severus, that day was only five years ago, whereas to Harry it was a lifetime away: Regulus had been right about the paradoxes of coldsleep.

"We'll discuss all that later," Harry said, "for now, we both need to survive."

"What's the point? He's reactivating the forcefield. Even if your backup does arrive, they won't be able to get in."

"Remus Lupin knows the codes," Harry said. Then he gasped. "But I was forgetting. Remus is in league with _him_." 

Severus shook his head. "He has some sort of hold over Remus – manages to mess up his mind with these infernal crystals of his. Remus wouldn't help him willingly."

"But I told them Remus is a traitor!" Harry wailed. "He's probably in a secure cell back at the –" The clink of a dislodged stone at the cave entrance cut him short. 

Riddle had returned.

* * * * * *

****

Chapter Fifteen

Harry and Severus exchanged glances. Riddle had just finished integrating a complicated-looking control panel into the network of wires, probes and electronic devices sprouting from the black crystals at the back of the cave, and there was no sign of Professor McGonagall and her troops coming to their rescue. Was this the end?

Riddle stalked towards them, a crazy triumph shining in his eyes. A bundle of electrodes dangled from his hand, connected wires stretching back to the control panel. 

"Now you can make your last contribution to my research, Severus," he sneered, "a rather more passive contribution than formerly, I'm afraid. _Extremely_ passive, by the end." And he gave a high-pitched, sinister laugh, the effect of which was rather spoiled when he found the wires did not quite allow him to reach Severus with the electrodes. Annoyed, he tugged violently on them, and only stopped when one wire broke loose.

Muttering to himself, he repaired the connection, then warily approached Harry and Severus again, wire-cutters in one hand, blaster in the other.

"I'm going to free your ankles," he told Severus, "and you are to walk – slowly! – forwards. If you make any attempt to attack me, or to escape, I will kill your young friend here."

Severus' shoulders slumped; he watched as Riddle sheared through the cables around his ankles; staggered to his feet. Harry stared hard at him, trying to convey _don't mind me, he'll kill me anyway_ , but Severus either couldn't, or wouldn't, understand him. He followed Riddle meekly, a lamb to the slaughter.

*

"There," Riddle said with immense satisfaction, pressing the last electrode home against Severus' temple. "Now –"

He reached for the control panel, but before his fingers could touch a switch a warning shout rang out from the entrance to the cave. Riddle spun round, blaster raised; two beams of intense light arced towards each other and Riddle's blaster fell, melted, from his hand.

"Step away from there!"

Three men stood just inside the cave, weapons pointed at Riddle. Harry recognised one as the shuttlepilot who'd brought him down from Daedalus Prime; he didn't recognise the other two. Behind them was Professor McGonagall, a grim smile of satisfaction on her face.

Riddle was seized, spreadeagled against the rock, searched. Professor McGonagall picked up his wire-cutters and freed first Harry, then Severus.

"You should really have stayed outside, as I told you," she said, frowning at Harry, "but –" with a smile at Severus, "– I'm so glad you didn't."

"I was afraid you wouldn't be able to get past the forcefield," Harry admitted.

Professor McGonagall gave a dry little chuckle. "Don't tell anybody, but I have emergency override codes to every piece of equipment on this colony."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Harry could tell he was making a mental inventory.

"The key word is _emergency_. I very rarely make use of them," said Professor McGonagall.

Severus did not look reassured.

"By the way," he said, "Remus Lupin's no traitor. Riddle used the memory mineral, as he calls it, to control Lupin's mind, then make him forget he ever helped him."

"Ah, I'm glad to hear that," said Professor McGonagall, "Remus is a real asset to our community." She turned to the men surrounding Riddle. "Let's get back to the settlement. The sooner that maniac is in a secure cell, the safer we'll all feel."

They began to file out, but in the confusion of entering the narrow passage which led to the outside world, Riddle managed to break free and run towards his control panel. Before anybody could stop him, he'd extinguished all the lights in the cave. Stumbling around in the dark, cursing, it was several long minutes before McGonagall's men were able to recapture him and drag him back towards the faint glimmer of daylight which marked the cave's entrance.

Harry and Severus, still inside the cave, heard his shout as he was hauled outside.

"You s-s-still haven't won! My c-c-c-contingency p-p-p-lan –"

The rest was lost in a series of explosions, a rumble of falling rocks. Severus hurled himself at Harry just in time and swept him clear. Neither was injured, but the entrance was now blocked by half a ton of rubble.

They were trapped inside the cave.

*

"I'm sure they'll be able to dig us out," Harry said, for perhaps the hundredth time.

Severus only grunted. Sitting hunched up against the wall of rock, as far from the black crystals as he could get, he was the picture of misery.

Harry soon gave up on his attempts to clamber up the rock face; a fissure in the rocks high above let in fresh air and a certain amount of light, but even if he'd been able to reach it, it was too narrow to climb through. He sank to the ground beside Severus and touched his hand.

"What's wrong? Anyone would think you'd wanted Riddle to obliterate your personality."

Severus mumbled something. 

Harry put his arm around Severus' shoulders, felt them tense.

"Severus. Please. Tell me."

"I said, maybe I deserved it," Severus said wretchedly. "This – talking to Tom Riddle – his mad schemes – it brought it all back. I should never have gone along with his empire-building plans in the first place. If I'd seen him for what he was, maybe Lily would still be alive."

Harry's face grew serious. "You were fond of my mother?"

With a sudden, jerky movement, Severus shrugged off Harry's arm. "How can you forgive me? I can't forgive myself. Lily was my only real friend when I was growing up. I was an oddball, a misfit. She was the only person who understood me."

He gave a deep sigh.

"Then – oh, I don't know. I was young, wanting to prove myself. I got in with a shady crowd, most of them already followers of Tom Riddle. Lily tried to stop me, but by then she was in with a crowd of her own – popular, good at sports – everything I wasn't. It included your father, James Potter." Severus' voice turned hard. "He and his friends made a habit of picking on me, humiliating me. Lily tried to intervene once and I – I just lashed out, insulted her too. Oh, I tried to apologise, but she –"

He broke off. After a long pause, during which Harry sympathetically squeezed his hand, he went on, "Things were never the same between us, after that. She married James, you were born... But I swear, I would never have harmed either of you. I didn't know how Riddle would interpret that cursed message."

"Regulus told me a bit about that," Harry said, "how you discovered that radio transmissions through a wormhole could get misaligned in time, and you could even receive a message years before it's sent."

"Yes... rarely, in exceptional circumstances. And this one was incomplete, part of it missing. But it specifically mentioned Riddle, so I took it straight to him."

Severus was silent. When it became apparent he wasn't going to continue, Harry spoke in a quiet, contemplative voice, sitting beside him in the semi-dark.

"When I go through wormholes, I sometimes relive things from my past. The first few times, I heard my mum. Screaming. Once, I heard her calling – _not Harry, please, not Harry!_..."

He felt Severus twitch beside him.

"These last few Jumps, I heard more. I saw things, too. On the outward Jump, after Riddle stunned me and fastened me in that crate, I heard two men's voices, telling my mum to stand aside, that I was the one they wanted to kill. I recognised one of them." Harry turned slightly, trying to see Severus' face in the half-light. "It was you."

"Harry – I went along with him because I hoped I could stop him. It didn't work. I'm sorry."

"I know that now," Harry said steadily, "but at the time, I was devastated. Regulus Black tried to tell me that you wouldn't have hurt my mother, but I wasn't sure I believed him. But then something happened –" he paused, collecting his thoughts, "– on the way back to Icarus. I did it in three Jumps, to get here as soon as possible, to warn people about Riddle's brain-sharing trick. In the second Jump –" he took a deep breath, "– I saw you. Hiding me in a Jumpship, when I was a baby." Carefully, tentatively, he put his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Why did you never tell me you saved my life?"

Severus said nothing.

After a while Harry went on, quietly, "Wormholes do strange things. To space. To time. To people's perceptions. By the time I came out of the third Jump, I felt I'd known you all my life. The worst of you, and the best."

He felt Severus shake, and realised that he was crying – deep, inaudible, wrenching sobs. Harry put his arms around him and held him, as what little light there was faded, and long afterwards, throughout the darkness of the night.

*

Muffled shouts announced that their rescuers had reached the final layer of rocks closing the cave's entrance. Harry and Severus, tired and thirsty after their long ordeal, heard them with deep relief. The last few rocks had to be carefully removed by hand, to avoid triggering further falls; as each was extracted the light in the cave increased, until at last Harry and Severus could make out each other's features; finally they were all gone and light flooded in.

Remus was first into their prison, hugging Harry and slapping Severus on the back. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise what that jerk was doing to me. I've been working my bollocks off to get you out." 

His eye was caught by the wires still sprouting out of the glittering black crystals; curious, he stepped forward for a closer look.

"Don't go too close," warned Severus. "How do we know what other contingency plans Tom Riddle might have had?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Didn't you notice how he was stammering at the last? C-c-c-ontingency p-p-plans – remind you of anyone?"

Harry gasped. "Quirrell! You mean – Riddle had left his body?"

Remus stepped back from the wall of crystals as if he'd been scalded.

"Well, there's one way to find out for sure," Severus mused. "Once we get a new brain scanner, we can –"

He broke off. Remus was shaking his head.

"He's dead, Severus. Professor McGonagall told me. He grabbed at one of his guard's blasters, was killed in the struggle."

"Well, I may be being paranoid," Severus said, "but I'd advise extreme caution in dealing with this." He waved his hand, indicating the control panel, Riddle's lash-up, and, especially, the sinister black crystals.

"Yeah," Harry said with a grin. "Speaking as the colony's resident mineralogist, I'd recommend blowing it all up."

*

"I don't think I'll ever grow tired of this," Harry said contentedly. He was sprawled out in the hammock behind Severus' hut, gazing up into the tree, watching the green leaves moving randomly in the breeze, the birds hopping about in its branches. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting moving shadows across his face.

Beside him, Severus stood at his trestle table, clever fingers busily preparing a herbal infusion for Poppy Pomfrey. Every so often he glanced at Harry, as if to reassure himself that he was still there. 

"What, not grow tired of a dirtball?"

Harry laughed. "I can't believe that's what I used to call planets like this. When I think of my life on the space stations – canned air, no living things apart from humans and a few plants in the hydroponics bays, restricted space – well, I wouldn't want to go back."

He turned in the hammock, smiling into Severus' eyes. "And _you're_ here, of course."

Severus felt his heart skip a beat. "Harry. All the galaxy's open to you."

"Yeah..." Harry swung his legs over the edge of the hammock in one lithe movement, came to stand close beside Severus. "But you know what? I'm fine where I am."

He leaned in, nuzzling at Severus' neck. After a moment Severus put his arms around Harry, fiercely pulling him close. Over Severus' shoulder, Harry could see the sun shining between the leaves, haloing them with a golden blur. He closed his eyes, inhaling Severus' musky male scent, mingled with the aromatic herbs he'd been brewing. Severus' mouth fastened hungrily on Harry's, with a restrained urgency, an underlying tenderness, he'd never shown before. Sighing happily, Harry gave himself up to the kiss.

"Anyway," Harry murmured, some time later. "I don't mind making another Jump in an emergency, if Professor McGonagall ever thinks it's essential. Not otherwise, though. I've been OK so far, half-a-dozen or so Jumps and still perfectly sane. But I don't want to push my luck."

"Good," replied Severus. "So come and make yourself useful; I've some more medicinal herbs which need harvesting..."

*

The plants in the clearing had changed dramatically in the few weeks since Harry had last seen them. Ones which had been in bud before were now in full flower and surrounded by busily buzzing insects. Others had already set seed. Severus seemed in no hurry to begin harvesting them, however, and it wasn't long before both his and Harry's clothes were strewn around on the grass.

In contrast to the previous occasion, they took their time, fully committed to each other's pleasure. Harry cupped Severus' heavy balls in his hands, mouthing and licking, happy in the knowledge that Severus was truly his at last.

Severus took control, mounting Harry and gently easing himself inside. His long, rhythmic thrusts rocked Harry back and forth on the grassy turf. First his head was in sunshine, then shadow, then sunshine again, the warm red pulses of light through his eyelids soon echoed by the thrilling pulses of his orgasm. And this time, Severus did not roll off Harry the instant he'd reached his own climax, but held him close for a long, precious moment.

They spent the rest of the day dozing, making love, talking, making love again. As dusk fell, a big white bird ghosted across the clearing, giving a long, plaintive cry.

"Listen," Harry said. "It's calling Sev-er-us, Sev-er-us."

Severus looked at him sideways. "Perfectly sane," he snorted. "Right."

****

The End

Bonus Art from the lovely swtalmnd

[ ](http://www.pornbunnyfarm.com/files/sshpbb-floating-bonus-c.jpg)

(Original can be found [here](http://swtalmnd.insanejournal.com/311231.html).) 


End file.
